Bound For The Floor
by WickedFan97
Summary: Alternate Season 1. "I-I choose the detentions Mr. Schue," muttered Finn. How one decision changed the entire outcome for New Directions. A realistic look. Eventual Faberry.
1. Chapter 1

Hi. My name is Katie and I like Faberry. I'm new to this fandom, so I'm pretty sure my writing is nothing compared to the legendary writers here.

I like flamers and criticisms so bring it on like Donkey Kong. But I do appreciate reviews very much. :) I'm busy but will continue if people want me to.

Adios, bitches.

_Part One._

Rachel Berry was born to be a star.

She knew this, she has always known this-especially since the tender age of one where she so beautifully bonded with Maria from West Side Story.

But this-this sudden unsatisfactory development-threatened everything she has ever dreamed of. It clawed at her insides and made her want to run home and cry and watch Funny Girl until Barbara could magically jump out of the screen and give her advice.

Because this was an _atrocity _of epic proportions. For the first time in her life she didn't know what to do with herself. She has always had a strong semblance of control in her life and it was starting to slip away into an oblivion. You might say she was being dramatic, which she proudly admitted to being dramatic because all great stars were, but in this situation she felt as if she was being nowhere near dramatic. She felt she was being what was called painstakingly honest when she observed that this current performance was horrible. It was. Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel were mediocre at best, almost seeming as if their hearts were not really in it, and Tina Cohen-Chang, which Rachel was pretty sure the girl's name was, was clumsily rolling around Artie Abrams in his chair while he attempted-and in Rachel's opinion strongly failing- to be _the_ male lead and sing 'Rockin the Boat.' You might think her criticisms were nothin short of harsh, but she and her two dads went to a performance of Guys and Dolls at a local theater in Columbus for the Columbus School for the Deaf, and needless to say that this newly regrouped Glee Club could take some pointers.

_This is ridiculous, _Rachel thought to herself as Artie ran, well, _wheeled_ himself knee first into the wall of the choir room with a grunt.

By the look on Mr. Schuester's face, she wasn't alone in her thinking.

"We suck," commented Rachel, unceremoniously dropping her hands. It honestly was the nicest thing that she could say about the recent performance.

"Ah, well, it-it'll get there," replied Mr. Schuester, and Rachel could see him struggling to put optimism on his face, "We just need to keep rehearsing."

Rachel brushed her hair away impatiently, "Mr. Schuester, do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to give the lead solo in 'Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat' to a boy in a wheelchair?"

She was well aware of Mercedes Jones giving her _that _look, and Kurt Hummel sniffing impatiently at her while swiping a finger through his product-lathered hair. She didn't care if they were unecessarily impatient with her, this whole thing was completely and utterly ridiculous. She wasn't going to apologize for stating her much needed opinion in the face of truth.

She sighed. _This will not do._

She was honestly about to say this aloud when Artie piped, "I think Mr. Schue's using irony to enhance the performance."

She could see Mr. Schuester jumping in to agree, and she lost every thread of patience she had. This was not _ironic!_ This was ridiculous!

"There's nothing ironic about show choir!"

She was aware of the condescending looks she was recieving, with Mr. Schuester struggling to come up with a reply to not anger her further, and possibly provide an optimistic outcome to the situation.

She didn't care.

She stood there, to see if anyone might possibly agree, before turning with her chin held up high and marching out of the room with a huff.

_Part Two._

She couldn't say she was suprised when she felt Mr. Schuester sit next to her on the bleachers.

It was inevitable. She knew she was the best and most dedicated in there, she had no doubts concerning that, and with her perfectly executed diva storm out that she perfected over the years, she knew it wouldn't be long before he approached her about a possible male lead. What did the man honestly expect? A group of rag tag misfits to make it to the top with only five contenders and only one who was truly dedicated? Rachel certainly knew that that was not going to happen anytime soon. And she has read The Show Choir Handbook seven times, and knows for a fact that they needed at least twelve contenders from a school to compete. Well that didn't look too optimistic for New Directions any time soon. Glee Club was seen as the lowest of the low on the social heirachy chain, and people would be ashamed just talking to them. It was her first official year in the club, no thanks to that sexist Sandy Ryerson, but she observed and noticed that they really only talked and communicated within the confines of the club, and anything beyond was a slushy facial.

But Rachel didn't care about tags or being popular. She got slushied daily and held her head up high. She was better than _them._ She was smart and she had her voice, and that's all she needed to escape from being a Lima Loser. She knew that one day she would look back after her success on Broadway and just laugh if she was ever interviewed about being popular in high school.

But she would be lying if she said it didn't hurt a little. She wasn't lying to Mr. Schuester when she said she was tired of being laughed at. She was. She didn't care if she was popular, but she wanted for people to at least admire her for the talent she did possess. She wanted them to actually hear her singing voice, and not judge her based on her admittedly brutal honesty and obnoxiousness. Maybe if they could hear her sing, if they could just _win_, things could be different.

So she put herself on the line. She had to at least try.

"I need a male lead who can keep up with me vocally," stated Rachel, keeping her voice strong. Mr. Schuester sighed.

He looked a little lost. "Maybe I can coach Artie a little. I- "

Rachel swiftly interjected, "Look, Mr. Schue...I really appreciate what your trying to do. But if you can't give me what I need, then I'm sorry."

She breathed deeply, staring forlornly at the Cheerios performing their routine, Sue Sylvester shouting insults at them left and right.

Her gaze became hard.

Her voice became even stronger.

"I'm not gonna make a fool of myself."

Rachel could feel her teacher staring intensley at her, trying to determine her actions.

She sighed, "I can't keep wasting my time with Glee. It hurts too much."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him staring down at the bleachers, his brows furrowed and looking contemplative. She couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for the man.

Thankfully, they were interrupted by a whistle blowing. She watched as Coach Tanaka said something about Principle Figgins, and Mr. Schue slowly standing up on the bleachers. He squinted in the sunlight before he looked back down at Rachel. He gestured towards the direction of the school and she nodded. He seemed to awkwardly pat her shoulder before beginning his trail back down the bleachers, his head bowed and obviously thinking. Rachel couldn't help but feel a little relief. She had informed him on what she needed and now all she really wanted to do is get to her next class without a slushie facial, preferably not apple.

She began her slow walk down the bleachers onto the track field surrounding the football stadium, walking with her arms crossed back towards the school.

She could hear the Cheerios panting and trying to perform the routine without a hitch.

"You think this is hard? Try sneaking into prison to see your father with a heroin balloon up your anus. That's hard!"

_Part Three._

Will Schuester was having a very rough day. Scratch that, a very rough week.

His wife Terri was becoming a little more demanding, especially in wanting a dream house they couldn't afford, and his New Directions dream was slowly starting to shred.

He had to practically beg Figgins to even agree to let him take over. He knew that the club wasn't exactly popular, but he honestly thought he might have more to work with than just five kids. One of which who he didn't know what to do. Rachel Berry. The girl, while slightly egotistical and brash, was honestly the best he had. The others are good, they honestly had potential, but Rachel Berry knew everything there was to know about show choir, and she was damn good, he grudgingly admitted. Will honestly liked Artie, the boy genuinely did have talent, but he grudgingly admitted that he wasn't leading potential. Kurt Hummel had an outstanding voice, but he was more of a diva than Mercedes Jones and Rachel Berry combined, and that was not something he was prepared to handle.

He sighed in frustration as flipped through a test, once again only a sombrero drawn to the side of each question.

Where could he get a male lead?

And then it hit him.

_Part Four._

Will Schuester finally had a plan. Although he was probably going to hell for it, it was worth it.

The last few days had been excruciatingly difficult. His efforts to talk to the football players had failed-failed being an understatement-and he honestly almost lost all hope.

His sign up list certainly hadn't worked out at all like planned.

_Buttmunch._

_Seymour Ass._

_Penis._

That, and many other colorful names had decorated the sign up sheet.

But that didn't matter now, because he had found what he was looking for, but now he just had to convince the boy.

Honestly, he hadn't expected Finn Hudson of all the guys to be able to sing. The tall and lanky quarter-back, who was nice, if not a little naive.

But he couldn't help but feel a little guilty as he observed the worried looking boy in front of him, fidgeting and asking if he did something wrong.

He pulled the little packet out. _There's no going back now._

He slid the packet across his desk, 'The Chronic Lady' worded across the top.

He put on a firm face. "You want to tell me how long you've had a drug problem?"

He was going to hell.

The boy's eyes seem to expand out of their sockets. He fidgeted even more before trying to throw together a string of words.

"I don't even know who the chronic lady is," stammered Finn, his arms gesturing wildly towards the packet on the table.

Will crossed his arms, attempting to look intimidating. "Look-if it were up to me we wouldn't have bi-weekly locker checks- "

Finn's voice was borderline hysterical now. "But I've never seen that before, Mr. Schue. I swear, it's not mine! I'll pee in a cup!"

Will nearly slammed his forehead on his desk and groaned. This was ridiculous and going way too far in order to get the male lead they needed. It wasn't just that, Finn was also popular he knew, and maybe his influence could help influence others to join the club. He knew what he was pulling was risky, if he was found out then his job would be gone, as well as his already temperamental wife. But he knew he needed to do this. Finn Hudson might be their only chance at achieving anything this year in Glee Club, and it was gonna take a lot of work to get him in and keep him in. He knew that in order to do this, he might have to pull out the big guns, like threatening expulsion or having the boy believe there was no chance whatsoever for a football scholarship, which were ridiculously hard to get anyways in Lima.

He turned his attention back to Finn.

"I'll pee," exclaimed Finn, again looking borderline freaked out.

Will sighed. "Look, it wouldn't make any difference."

_It was time to hit below the belt._

"Possession is eight-tenths of the law. I'm pretty sure that much pot is a felony. Yeah."

Finn was running his hands through his hair, looking on the verge of actually crying.

"Look, you'll get kicked out of school. You'll lose your football scholarship-"

Finn's head whipped up at his words, making Will feel even guiltier. "Wait, I- I had a football scholarship? To-to where?"

His voice sounded small, and almost hopeful. _Shit_, thought Will.

He swallowed and continued. "You could land in prison, son."

"Oh My God," muttered Finn, his eyes glancing around wildly, "Please, don't tell my mom." He was now gesturing his arms, pleading with Will.

Will sighed, it was time to act the fatherly figure and and make him choose.

He was so going to hell.

"Look, I see a lot of myself in you, Finn. I know what it's like to struggle to make good life choices."

And here's the finale.

"I just expected more out of you Finn, " said Will, forcing his voice to sound disappointed.

His heart clenched when Finn looked down with his brow furrowed, hurt on his face. He also looked conflicted, like he was trying to figure out how to approach the situation. Will couldn't blame the kid, he would be freaking out as well and wondering how to get himself out of the situation, especially one as large as this, in any possible way. That's why he was confident this would work.

He cleared his throat and Finn glanced up.

He said quietly, to add effect, "I'll give you two options."

Finn looked even more hopeless.

"I'm running detention now, so you can do six weeks after school," he said, trying not to smile, "But that's gonna go on your permanent record."

Finn actually looked somewhat hopeful now. He bit his lip and frowned slightly.

"What's the other option Mr. Schue?" Finn whispered.

That's when Will smiled, and gave him his other option.

To Will's offense, Finn looked slightly horrified.

"Gl-Glee club?" stuttered Finn, looking the opposite of hopeful now.

Will just nodded.

He sighed inwardly, wondering what it was going to take for the school to actually give them a chance. This is what they really needed. If they actually had the school behind them, then they could be unstoppable at competitions. He remembered a time when Glee was popular, and everyone wanted to be them but not everyone had the talent. He watched it plummet into nothingness over the years. He watched the downfall of popularity, how it became nothing more than a target for the hockey and football players.

He knew it would be a tough decision for Finn, but he was confident the boy would choose Glee, obviously not wanting to upset his mom and have the detentions-which he didn't even really deserve-on his record.

He watched Finn for an entire minute, watched as the boy looked torn and confused. Finn fidgeted even more, biting his lip and running his hands over his striped sweater, staring at the floor.

His head snapped up when he heard Finn begin to talk.

"Mr. Schue," said Finn, his voice nervous, "I've decided."

Will leaned forward eagerly and smiled, knowing he won.

"I-I choose the detentions Mr. Schue," spoke Finn, his voice still nervous.

Will's smile dropped.

_Part Five._

"I tried my best," murmured Will Schuester, looking frustrated and exhausted, "but he absolutely refused. I'm sorry Rachel."

Rachel tightened her hold on her notebooks, feeling angry and hopeless.

"I'm sorry too, Mr. Schue," spoke Rachel. She kept her voice as professional as she could.

And after meeting his eyes briefly, she turned with her head up and walked to the door, grabbing ahold of the doorknob. She turned around.

"I won't make a fool of myself."

As she shut the door, she caught ahold of his look of desperation, of utter hopelessness, and once again a small bout of sympathy rose up. He was honestly just trying to help out the kids, and help achieve a dream of his own. She knew he had sacrificed a lot to be able to take over Glee, and now he only had four members of it. And all of them were hopeless. As much as that sounded rude and conceited, it was true. She wouldn't deny that they have potential and sheer talent, they did, but they didn't even come close to having an organized plan or two leads. Hell, they didn't even have close the amount of students it took to qualify. It takes more than just sheer talent to win a competition, you have to know your competitors and their weaknesses, you have to prepare and be organized and set with two leads, and most of all...you have to put aside personal fears and actually _want_ it. Maybe that had always been Rachel's problem, she wanted everything too much. But one thing she could say about herself in a positive light, is that she didn't need anyone, she could get anything she wanted by herself if she fought hard enough to get it. Which she _always _did.

But that is what makes her Rachel Berry and she wouldn't change her ambitions for anyone.

She kept thinking over what her next moves were while she trudged slowly to her locker, clutching her notebooks tightly to herself and keeping a second eye out for slush attacks. She really didn't want to get hit today, in an effort to look up sheet music for the very first week of the official new Glee Club, she forgot her spare set of clothes.

Luckily though, she made it to her locker and hurriedly opened it up, wanting to get out of there quickly just in case.

But a conversation behind her stopped her instantly.

"Yeah, he tried to get me to join Glee," spoke a voice, sounding confused.

The next voice was eerily familiar. A voice that spread a sensation down Rachel's spine, and not in a good way.

"You said no, right?" Quinn Fabray. Her voice sounded snide and insulting even when talking to her boyfriend. "Finn, you better have chosen the dete- "

Finn spoke, his voice quickly turning nervous and hurried, "O-of course. I told him there was no way I would choose that club."

Quinn spoke, softening her voice a little to a pitch that Rachel had never heard coming from the Head Cheerio. "Good. You know our reps would have been on the line."

Finn spoke in a reassuring voice, "I know. I wouldn't do that to us."

Rachel squinted into the mirror she had fished out of her locker when the conversation started, carefully watching the two interact and trying to remain inconspicuous.

The blonde nodded her head and gave a soft smile to the boy who was awkwardly shuffling his books in his bag. But suddenly a frown overcame the blonde's features.

"What if he comes and asks you again?" Quinn sounded worried, but Rachel, given her amazing sixth sense, could hear the underlying test in the blonde's words.

Finn looked up at her, and looked slightly confused. He reminded Rachel of a little puppy. A very _cute _little puppy.

"I would tell him no," spoke Finn, still looking and sounding confused. _Bingo_, thought Rachel.

Quinn suddenly gave him an approving smile, and leaned up and kissed him softly, causing the boy to get a dopey grin on his face.

_Of course all the good ones are taken, _grumbled Rachel, watching as he kissed the Cheerio and then walked down the hallway in the opposite direction.

She sighed and was about to put away her mirror, when the blonde's head snapped towards her direction, and the fiery hazel eyes zeroed in on Rachel's with a glare.

_Here we go, _sighed Rachel, watching as the blonde began walking the few lockers down towards her, looking intimidating in all her HBIC glory.

"Eavesdrop much, Rupaul?" The blonde certainly lost the brief gentleness she exuded before, and was now exuding pure anger. And perhaps hatred. Rachel wouldn't be suprised.

Rachel sighed, she would be the nice one here, even if she wasn't particularly fond of the Cheerio. "I don't know what your talking about Quinn, I was just getting the required class b- "

She jumped as the locker beside her slammed with Quinn's palm.

"Don't mess with me manhands. I know you were listening to our conversation," growled Quinn, her face flushed and her eyes narrowed, "And don't even think about trying to get _my _boyfriend to join your pathetic excuse for a club, because if you come anywhere near him, I will pe- "

Rachel raised her chin defiantly and cut the girl off. "Or what Quinn? Throw a slushie in my face?"

Quinn seemed to draw closer until Rachel had her back pressed against the lockers. Okay, she was afraid a little bit. Quinn could be downright scary when she wanted to be, and that was right now.

The blonde's eyes were dark with anger, her cheeks red and her breathing harsh and angry. She could see that her fists were clenched, and she could feel her body was tense as a coil as she pressed close to Rachel.

Rachel suddenly feared for her life.

The blonde seemed to sense this, because an all too familiar smirk crossed her face before she pulled away.

That was when Rachel's bravery suddenly came back to her. She wished it hadn't.

As Quinn began to turn and leave her be, she said it before she could really even stop herself. She had never backed down from the Cheerio and she didn't intend to now.

"What, Quinn, afraid of a little competition?" Rachel concluded that wasn't the smartest plan of action. She didn't even know when it went from talking about him joining the club, to them fighting over _him._

The blonde twirled around, her Cheerio's skirt twirling with her, as she turned and gave a vivid glare back at Rachel. She walked back with all of her intimidating glory and was about to, in Rachel's opinion, probably kill her, when out of nowhere she felt ice covering her entire head and shoulders. She hurriedly closed her eyes as she felt it begin to slide down over her face even more. She licked her lips and winced. Apple. She hated apple.

She pushed her hands up to her eyes and wiped away the green corn syrup away from her eyes.

She could see a few miling students around laughing, and Quinn was in front of her smirking at Dave Karofsky's disappearing back.

She put her chin up and walked, as dignified as she could, around Quinn and to the nearest restroom, which was right down the hall.

She pushed open the bathroom door, still hearing Quinn's cruel laughter following her.

She trudged over to the sink to begin a now mastered ritual.

She looked up at her reflection.

_I won't make a fool of myself._

_Too late._

_Part S_ix.

Rachel Berry had become quite adept at ducking between bodies in the hallways.

Over the last two weeks there has really been no choice.

It has turned into an all out slush battle. People were getting hit left and right. It wasn't just the Glee kids anymore, it was the entire school.

Well, excluding the Cheerios and football players.

She had a feeling, no doubt her sixth sense, that she had become Karofsky's favorite target. She could only guess who _inspired_ those attacks. After her confrontation with Quinn two weeks ago, she attempted to avoid the blonde like the plague. She honestly didn't want to spend all her time locked in a confrontation when it is taking valuable time away from her to practice or keep and eye out for a male lead. She had meant what she said to Mr. Schue, she wouldn't return until he had acquired someone who could match her vocally. And from the looks of things, that certainly wasn't happening. Mr. Schue had tried more than once to reason with her, but she stubbornly inquired everytime if he had a male lead she could work with. He didn't. So end of story. And Mercedes and Kurt had come up to her more than once, obviously Mr. Schue's doing seeing as they glared at her the entire time.

Because of this she had been avoiding the very few members of the Glee Club, Karofsky and Azimio, and Quinn Fabray herself.

For the first time in her life Rachel dreaded school every single day.

The losers were getting bullied so much worse than last year, and there practically was no Glee Club for her to be in.

At times she just wanted to shout at how immature they're all being, stomp her foot, and storm out the door with the entire school watching.

She knew that wasn't exactly plausible.

She also wanted to march up to Finn Hudson, and without Quinn breathing down her neck, beg him to join the club. She had never heard the boy sing, so of course she was skeptical, but Mr. Schue said he had a lot of potential. And that was enough for Rachel Berry. It was better than what she had now.

She went rigid as she felt ice cold corn syrup drip down her back.

This year had to get better. Glee Club had to get better.

**Continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the positive feedback guys. Much appreciated.

About last chapter, that was my filter chapter. Just some testing grounds. I understand there were a few grammatical errors, which will hopefully not be present in this one. I do not have a Beta, and I'm fine with that.

I was kinda drunk when I wrote that chapter. I had the outline, but I was kinda tipsy and was like 'what the hell, might as well.'

Because I did get positive feedback, I will continue as much as possible. I'm busy trying in college, but I will update at least once a week. And I can guarantee each chapter at least 5000 words or more.

And like I said before, _eventual _Faberry. It will take a while, now that Finn did not join Glee and all the kids are getting picked on more than ever. Remember, this is an angsty/ hopefully realistic approach.

So please, my new Faberry bitches, R&R.

/

_Part One._

Rachel rubbed her eyes tiredly and pulled the poncho hood up over her head.

It was only Tuesday and already this week had been hell.

Apparently last week, when all of this immaturity started, was only the beginning. Kids were getting tossed in dumpsters just about every hour -and one of which Rachel witnessed- had been Kurt Hummel. She felt pure sympathy for the boy as he was picked up, like a rag doll, and thrown with effortlessness into the dumpster.

And that was in addition to the patriotic wedgies and the slush war going on.

Rachel had been hit with four slushies already, and it was only the beginning of the week.

Well, she was hit with two yesterday at the exact same time, but she still counted that. She had been trying to enlist Finn Hudson into the club, and so far she was failing miserably. She attempted to approach the boy more than once, but Quinn Fabray was always by his side, not straying for a minute. The blonde wasn't kidding when she said not to approach her boyfriend. But she was Rachel Berry, and she _always_ got what she strived to achieve for. And if that was getting Finn Hudson, captain of the football team and boyfriend of the Head Cheerio, to join New Directions, then so be it.

She just knew she had to do something.

Everything was going absolutely terrible. And she was not exaggerating in the least bit.

New Directions was in complete shambles. She still had not gone back, and she honestly had no intention to. She was tired of always putting herself on the line; it was time someone else helped her. And she needed a male lead to do that. And while she wasn't in New Directions anymore, she still watched from the sidelines and tried to search for a male lead so that she could return. She wouldn't deny that it was difficult, watching them struggle in rehearsal, which she had_ not _videotaped. Mr. Schuester seemed to age with each performance, and she had seen him arguing with Figgins multiple times. And it wasn't just rehearsals that the kids were struggling with. She watched continuously as they became the biggest targets for the slush war, and in Kurt's case, the dumpster dumping. She couldn't exactly talk, she was a target quite a lot herself, but New Directions were getting hit harder than she could have imagined.

A part of her wanted to stick up for her former teammates; although brief as it was.

Rachel watched in dread as Mercedes shrieked down the hall, and dashed to the nearest bathroom, covered in cherry slushie. She held her gaze with Mercedes as the girl glanced at her for the quickest second, and then went into the bathroom. She thought she saw the girls eyes water up.

This had to stop.

_Part Two._

It was finally time. Rachel was going to do it.

She had been waiting all week for this. It was Wednesday, but that didn't matter.

She finally, _finally,_ spotted Finn Hudson alone by his locker, no Quinn Fabray by his side.

She quickly put all of her books in her locker, as well as her poncho. She wasn't going to approach the most popular boy in school wearing a poncho.

She shut her locker, and with a deep breath and her head held high, walked towards the boy.

He had his football jersey on with a pair of jeans, and was currently taking some books out and shuffling them into his bag. She nervously smoothed out her ridiculously short skirt, praying to any God that this worked. Because if New Directions didn't have a male lead, much less a popular male lead, then she could kiss it goodbye. And Rachel Berry refused to go down without a fight.

She stopped directly in front of him and waited.

He didn't seem to notice as he was currently looking at a book, _Spanish_ it read on the front, and was sporting that adorably confused look. She admired him for a few seconds before nervously clearing her throat.

His head snapped up towards hers. "Oh- um, hi," stammered Finn, looking at her like he didn't know who she was. _Which he probably doesn't_, thought Rachel sadly.

She held her head up. "Hello Finn, my name is Rachel Berry and I'm here to talk to you about possibly joining the Glee Club." She didn't waver her voice at all.

The boy looked confused for the briefest second, before his eyes widened in fear. She could tell he was nervous the way his eyes darted around everywhere, and how his hands tightened on his bag.

The boy cleared his throat awkwardly. "Look, I-I already talked to Mr. Schue about this. So-uh- thanks but no thanks."

Rachel was desperately grasping at straws now. With some hesitance, she leaned forward and put her hand on his arm.

"Please Finn. I heard that you have an amazing voice and I would be deeply appreciative if you just came by for one practice to try out," spoke Rachel, her voice hurried, but soft.

The boy look conflicted, and Rachel felt the tiniest glimmer of hope rise up.

"I-I'm sorry, but I have so much going on like football and-" commented Finn, nervously, before Rachel swiftly interjected.

"Listen, I know your concerned about your reputation, and I would be as well. But you have an amazing gift and you're going to throw it all away," whispered Rachel, knowing full well she was pleading now. She honestly didn't care at this point in time; she was desperate and she knew it. Finn had that weird spark about him, a spark that they needed. That she needed, in order to move on to be great. Finn seemed like one of the very few guys with enough spirit to actually put away people's opinions and do what he was great at doing.

Finn looked ready to say something, but then he seemed to freeze as he caught sight of someone over her shoulder. And to Rachel that could only mean one person.

Rachel didn't even turn to hear the blonde's voice, which was oozing with fake sweetness. "Hi Finn." The said boy put his backpack on his shoulder nervously, and glanced between them quickly.

Quinn didn't miss a beat. "What are you doing talking to her?"

Finn's eyes widened, and he began to mumble under his breath, as if it explained everything. Rachel noticed Quinn's brow arch even more.

Rachel quickly interrupted, not wanting the boy to get in trouble because of her. "Science Project. We're partners."

The blonde looked quite skeptical, but said nothing to challenge Rachel's statement.

"C'mon Finn, you'll be late for class," murmured Quinn, her voice quiet but with a hint of authority. She grasped his hand and gestured over her shoulder. Rachel could see the boy glance between the her and Quinn worriedly, before doing what the blonde said and begin to walk off towards class. Rachel inwardly sighed and prepared for the inevitable, yet completely predictable confrontation that was about to occur. The blonde watched him walk down the hall before turning her attention back towards Rachel. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes angry. Beside her, Santana Lopez had her arms crossed and was looking at her with her signature smirk on her face, making Rachel torn between shrinking in fear and completely slapping it off.

She took a breath when Quinn dropped her Cheerio's dufflebag and took a step closer to her, pointing her finger at her.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from my boyfriend, Treasure Trail," spat the blonde, looking angry. Rachel pushed aside her fear of being outnumbered and stuck her head up high.

Rachel spoke, taking all of her power to keep her voice strong, "I was merely discussing with him the benefits of joining Glee Club, and that reputation shouldn't matter when doi- "

She was cut off when Quinn took menacing steps forward, getting close to Rachel's face. She could feel the blonde's breath and could see how dark her eye's were when she was angry. She struggled to continue.

"Whe-when doing something that you really love to do," finished Rachel, somehow keeping her voice steady. She wouldn't be suprised if the blonde suddenly launched at her.

Quinn's eyes narrowed, and her voice sounded gravely low, "I will say this once and only once- "

"You can't keep controlling what everyone does Quinn! Why don't you let him make his own decisions?" Anger clouded Rachel's mind, but she was well aware that she was pushing the blonde's buttons even more than usual, and she wouldn't be suprised to see Karofsky come around the corner and slushie her.

The blonde snarled, "Berry, I'm beginning to lose my patience with yo- "

Rachel was pretty sure her high school career was officially over at this point. She didn't care. She kept walking away with her head held high and her hips swaying arrogantly. She was certainly not going to listen to the likes of Quinn Fabray.

She didn't even know when this whole thing started. Sure, she got picked on a little in middle school, but the blonde had never said a word to her. But then she walked in the doors freshman year, and that all suddenly changed. The girl had become a Cheerio, the captain, which was unheard of for a freshman, and then suddenly Quinn, Santana, and some girl named Brittany became the power trip girls. Even though they were only sophomores everyone seemed to fear them. Rachel honestly didn't understand it. She could see why the guys leered and flirted with them, they were admittedly beautiful girls, but she couldn't understand how they held so much power. And she hated to admit it, but it seemed difficult to maintain that power. Just about anything wrong in McKinley High could suddenly make you become the after school special. Like Glee Club or being gay for instance. Kurt got so much -excuse her language- shit for being gay that it was ridiculous. He hadn't officially come out yet, but everyone knew. Especially Rachel. She had the best gaydar North of the Mississippi River.

And what suprised her the most was Quinn. She was easily the most religious person at McKinley High, and always preached to others about right and wrong. She was even the president of the Celibacy Club for crying out loud. And Quinn was different from other girls. She had heard stories about how Quinn made Finn pray after he touched her breasts once, which she didn't know if it was the truth or not because she heard it from Jacob Ben Israel. But regardless, that's what she heard. She knew the girl went to church on Sundays, and she always noticed the way she sometimes grasped her infamous cross necklace. And the very few times she had seen the blonde outside her uniform, she had been wearing a cute sundress that was modest. She was just different from the other girls. She was more wholesome; refined you could say. Which was probably why all the boys wanted to get into her skirt. She heard some football players make comments about Quinn Fabray when she was passing by before.

You might think that all of this wholesomeness and religiousness would make you a nice person, but Rachel was pretty sure that wasn't exactly accurate when it came to Quinn Fabray.

She went rigid and steeled herself for the oncoming attack when she heard rapid footsteps follow her.

She kept walking when she heard the loud snarl of, "Don't you dare walk away from me RuPaul!"

She was almost out of the double doors when she felt two very strong arms wrap around her midsection and hoist her up.

She squealed indignantly, "Whoever you are, you better release me this instant!" She was quite frightened when she heard an all too familiar laugh echo in her ears.

"Yeah, well whaddaya gonna do about it Berry?" Karofsky replied snidely.

She was honestly scared now. She could see the double doors of the school getting further away.

After that, everything seemed to be a blur. She could see the double doors opening and Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez hastily emerging, apparently following them. She vaguely notices that she's spouting off very punctual sentences that contain active threats of expulsion and the connection between her fathers and the ACLU branch.

Suddenly, it's all clear as he stops and lifts her up as if he's carrying a child, and he has her at the edge of the dumpster.

She's frantically kicking in his arms and shouting curse words in her head, knowing there was no way out of this.

He halts for the briefest second, and turns to look towards the two Cheerios who have now halted with him. Rachel stops kicking when she realizes whats going on. She looks up and watches as he raises his eyebrow towards the cheerleaders in a silent question. Rachel already knows what the verdict is going to be. Her eyes scanned Quinn's cool facial features, and she met the blonde's eyes. As the blonde smirks and nods the confirmation, Rachel can feel that anger towards Quinn Fabray rise in her again as she is lifted even higher. And right when Karofsky's grip starts to loosen to drop her, she meets the Cheerio's eyes once more.

And as she's falling she notices an odd flicker in the girl's eyes.

She squeezes her eyes shut as she is dropped and hits the trash below with a shriek.

She holds her chin up as she hears their fading laughter, and blinks back tears as she wipes grime off her argyle sweater.

Things need to change.

_Part Three._

"No, girl, you think you have it bad right now," paused Mercedes, with one eyebrow raised, and in her customary diva stance, "Then you need to wake the hell up sista."

Rachel sighed.

After getting thrown in the dumpster yesterday, which she hadn't been aware that Mercedes and Kurt witnessed, they had been relentlessly trying to talk her back into New Directions. She knew they were under orders from Mr. Schue, seeing as they only tolerated her refusal before leaving completely without trying to reconvince her.

But today was different for some reason. She had said no the first time today, and they reappeared an hour later with the same question. She was suspicious and asked why, and then Mercedes told her the reason.

"Because we _are _losers, Rachel. You need to come back to Glee, because things aren't gonna get any better if you don't," finished Mercedes, her tone daring her to argue.

When Rachel said no once more, Mercedes gave her a considerably impressive verbal lashing.

"Fine, if you don't want to come back to the only place that makes you feel good in this school, then fine. I'm done trying to convince you," stated Mercedes, her voice angry.

She could only watched as the girl marched away with her customary diva swagger.

_Part Four._

For the first time since her departure from New Directions, Rachel Berry felt excitement and nervousness tug at her heartstrings.

Because today there was an assembly. And along with that assembly, New Directions would be making their big debut.

She hoped that they honestly gained a positive feedback, and inspired people to join the club. She knew what they were doing was very risky, putting themselves out there and trying to show the students of McKinley High that singing and dancing wasn't so bad. She knew it was a make it or break it type of deal. She had seen Mr. Schuester this morning, standing outside of his classroom, and she had seen the worry lines on his face that seemed to become more evident as the minutes ticked by. It honestly took all of her power not to march into the choir room and suggest helpful ideas for them; and perform them. And it took all of her power not to go up to any of the kids of New Directions and demand to know what musical number they were doing. But as much as she wanted to do that, she knew she couldn't. She knew she didn't have the right to do that, as much as they probably needed her help and guidance.

She couldn't stop the grin from forming on her face when she heard the overhead intercom announce the assembly.

She happily made her way into the gym, walking over quickly and sitting on the first row of the bleachers, towards the end.

_Perfect view,_ she thought happily.

She twiddled her thumbs anxiously as she watched the school slowly file into the auditorium. She watched as they chattered animatedly and took their seats, continuing to chatter. She watched as everyone seemed to quiet down a fraction as Sue Sylvester strutted in the gym, all of her Cheerios closely behind and strutting themselves. She refrained from scoffing and rolling her eyes as students scooted over quickly after Sue threateningly points her finger at them. After Queen Sylvester and her Minions were situated, she watched as the lights began to dim slightly, leaving a big spotlight pointing towards the stage. All the voices faded as Figgins walked toward the microphone.

She sighed impatiently as Figgins went through with his regular warnings; attempting to look serious and altogether failing.

She heard him say something about a toilet, and glanced up to see Sue covering her mouth, laughing.

Rachel furrowed her brows in disgust.

She watched, her palms getting sweatier by the minute, as Mr. Schuester went up to the microphone. He seemed to be just as nervous as she was, clearing his his throat and wiping his hands on his slacks continuously. He began to talk about how great Glee Club was in his day, and by this time Rachel was almost out of her seat in anticipation. She knew if she was up there with them and performing, then there was no way anything could go wrong. But they were up there by themselves, without any true leads and the entire student body hating them and doubting them. Rachel felt her heart lodge in her throat.

"And it's on its way back, " finished Mr. Schuester, finally ending his speech.

Rachel heard Sue Sylvester scoff loudly somewhere over her shoulder and she clenched her fist.

She watched as every light officially cut out, so that the spotlight was the only source of light in the gym.

She held her breath, and the curtains finally opened.

She watched as the members of New Directions were revealed, all dressed in blue. Tina was placed behind Artie, and a blind person could see she was trembling. Kurt and Mercedes stood next to each other, and Rachel couldn't help but be impressed by how confident they looked. She knew they were scared, that much was obvious to her, but they looked nothing short of confident right now. And now her curiosity hit sky high as she tried to determine what musical number they were doing. She quickly found out.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets when the blaring sound of disco surrounded the gym.

She shut her eyes and nearly slapped her forehead.

_Disco! You have got to be kidding me, _thought Rachel.

She could feel her heart sink as she watched the members of New Directions begin to awkwardly move around the stage, singing as best as they could given the genre of the music. Rachel was honestly angry for them. Mr. Schuester knew how important this kind of presentation would be among the school, and he knew how important it was to make an excellent first impression upon the students of McKinley High. New Directions were the underdogs in the situation, and only the best songs and the best performances would suffice.

And she had thought 'Sit Down, We're Rockin' the Boat' was an atrocity.

This, though, was completely terrifying.

Tina was attempting to do her own dance moves _and _help Artie at the same time. Kurt and Mercedes, voicewise, were doing a considerably good job. Their dancing was only mediocre, but Rachel blamed that thoroughly on the very poorly appointed song choice. Tina was doing decent on her vocals, but she seemed to get increasingly distracted by Artie. And Artie wasn't too bad on his vocals, but it was very obvious that his disability to move around in a dance number by himself was serving as a distraction for him. She looked across the Gym and saw Mr. Schuester smiling encouragingly at them. A part of Rachel wanted to go over there and give the guy a piece of her mind, and give him a proper talking to about presentation and better song choices.

She watched in nervousness as they finally finished their performance, throwing their hands in the air as the final act.

As soon as the music stopped, she looked around the gym and waited.

She could see Emma Pillsbury clapping enthusiastically, as well as Mr. Schuester and Principle Figgins.

That was the only sound of applause in the audience though.

Rachel felt her heart break for her former teammates as a small series of laughter came from several sections of the bleachers.

She could see the reactions on their faces as negative after negative comment was shouted out.

"You suck!"

"Losers!"

She could see Kurt and Mercedes attempt to appear nonchalant about the whole thing, with Mercedes flipping the finger and then walking off the stage with her diva walk. Which Rachel was impressed by, by the way. She watched Kurt roll his eyes, and attempt to follow her, walking round Tina and Artie, not even sparing them a glance. She could see Artie with his head down, and Tina had a look of hopelessness and hurt on her face. Tina grabbed Artie's chair and began to roll him off the stage, with the negative shouts and screams growing louder. And she looked across the gym towards Mr. Schuester, who looked like he had aged an entire decade in the span of five minutes. She watched him run his hands through his curly mop of hair. And she noticed Figgins shake his head in disappointment, slowly walking away from Mr. Schue.

Emma Pillsbury seemed to be the only positive person in the entire room, as she bent down and ran a hand comfortingly over his back.

Rachel could still hear laughter though, especially loud, right behind her.

She turned to see Quinn Fabray and her Cheerios laughing and mimicking several points of the performance. Rachel actually growled.

She watched as Quinn paused and turn to look at her, and regarded her with a look of victory. She had that insufferable smirk on her face, as well as that damn eyebrow.

Rachel glowered at her furiously and the blonde shot her a daring look. It made her glance away in anger and defeat. She could feel the hurt of her former teammates swirl around in her chest, and a part of her wanted to cry for them. And another part, a smaller but still existing part, wanted to loose herself in everybody and attack them with everything she possessed. It was actually kind of frightening.

She turned to glare back at Quinn one more time, but was shocked to see the girl still staring at her with a startling intensity. Her confused expression must have reflected on her face, because Quinn's eyes suddenly narrowed and she turned away from her before Rachel could even blink.

She pushed away her confusion and met the eyes of Mr. Schue across the gymnasium.

He looked just as sad and hurt as she probably did.

But she turned away from his pleading eyes, and turned away from the laughter ringing in her ears. And she walked towards the door with her confident walk.

Things seemed to be looking down a lot this year.

_Part Five._

Rachel hurried down the hallway.

The end of school bell rang and she hoped that she had enough time to make it.

After New Direction's humiliation yesterday, she wasn't at all suprised to see that they had unofficially disbanded. She had watched them walk down the hallways today, attempting to act natural, but with no such luck. If she thought it was bad before, then she honestly had no idea how to describe the situation now. There had been vicious comments made, as well as slushies thrown. She watched with sad eyes as Tina got hit with two at once, Azimio making some comment about disco. Kurt got thrown in the dumpster twice, and that was before second period had even started. She watched as two freshman Cheerios mocked Mercedes as she walked by, and Rachel reminded herself to give the girl praise when she got the chance. She watched two football jocks, one unrecognizeable, and the other she had seen many times before, that had the mohawk and went by 'Puck', cart Artie in his wheelchair to someplace she didn't even want to know.

He had wheeled back into McKinley covered in shit.

_I can't even begin to imagine how unsanitary that is, _winced Rachel, when she had seen Artie later that day.

Apparently it had been Finn Hudson and 'Puck' that had accomplished that task.

'Puck' was expected, she supposed. She didn't personally know the boy, but his wonderful reputation with women and causing trouble were legendary. But in that moment, Rachel had lost all respect at all for Finn Hudson. She thought maybe he truly was different, but it wasn't the first time Rachel had been left disappointed. But it made her realize that she didn't want to just stand idly by for the rest of the year and watch Glee Club get needlessly tormented, and lose all hope whatsoever and just give up. Rachel Berry was not going to let that happen. Male lead or not, she was going to go back and do this, and help New Directions rise again. And on the side of schoolwork and Glee she will just keep searching for a male lead, and she _will _find one. If she had to use her amazingly hidden but still very useful blackmail skills, than she certainly will.

And that's why she was heading in the direction of the Spanish classroom.

When she arrived, she noticed Mr. Schue was not present. And that suprised the girl. Mr. Schue always stayed late and helped the students with tutoring if they needed it.

She figured he must have gone to the restroom, so she went towards a random desk and sat down, waiting for him to return. She bent down and unzipped her pink backpack; she might as well pick her favorites of the sheet music she had researched, because she knew she had a lot of solos coming her way when she returned as the female lead vocal. She shuffled through a couple, frowning in distaste and wondering how she could have chosen something like that. Because Rachel Berry did _not _do hip-hop. She heard footsteps come her way so she quickly put the music back in her folder, and returned it to her bag.

She glanced up and her eyes widened in suprise. Mr. Schue was standing there in a janitor's outfit.

"Hello Mr. Schue," spoke Rachel, and she jumped as she watched his head snap up in a quick motion. He looked suprised to see her.

He scratched his neck in embarassment. "Oh, ah, hello Rachel," stumbled Mr. Schue, "...can I help you with something?"

She drew in a breath. "Actually, Mr. Schue, you can." She spoke with confidence.

He looked uncertain, but nodded for her to continue.

"I heard that Glee Club is officially over. Is-is that true?" Rachel kept her voice quiet, but oozing with confidence. But she felt everything drop when she saw the sudden sadness on Mr. Schue's face. He looked as if he was in actual pain, and Rachel's heart went out to the man. He seemed to draw into himself as he slowly mad his way over to his desk chair, sitting down with an exhausted sigh. Rachel waited patiently as the man appeared to be thinking to himself; his stare boring down onto his desk with an intensity that suprised her.

"...Yeah," sighed Mr. Schue defeatedly, "...It's over Rachel."

Rachel had expected this, so she quickly shot out of her seat, walking towards the front of the room. She stopped directly in front of his desk.

"It doesn't have to be," spoke Rachel, trying to keep her voice optimistic.

But her stomach dropped when she noticed Mr. Schue looking at her with solemn eyes, shaking his head. His posture and stance were defeated, and he just seemed tired now. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and just stared up at her shaking his head, opening his mouth several times to speak, before closing it. Rachel couldn't help but feel a little guilty that she had abandoned the club when they really needed her. While the club certainly didn't even come close to her expectations, they certainly could have used her help.

"Rachel, after what happened yesterday, they probably don't even have the confidence to sing in front of a mirror anymore," muttered Mr. Schue.

Rachel prodded, not giving up. "But what if I came back Mr. Schue? I'm pretty sure that with my effortless talent and grace, as well as my optimism, that I can help them be better."

Normally she would be offended, but she grinned when she watched Mr. Schue roll his eyes at her, a smile beginning to quirk on his lips.

He sighed, and stood up. He walked around his desk, and walked towards the closet in the corner of the classroom. Rachel watched his movements in confusion. But her eyes widened once again when she watched him pull a broom out of the closet, before shutting the door to the closet with a click. He walked back toward the front of the room, grabbing a stack of papers and putting them in his satchel, before walking towards the door. He turned back to look at Rachel, gesturing towards the hallway. Rachel quickly went back over to the desk to get her backpack, and once she had it, hurried to the open door. She walked into the hallway and waited as he took out his keys and locked the door to the room, before turning back towards her.

"Walk with me," spoke Mr. Schue, pointing toward the long expanse of hallway before you reached the exit.

Rachel nodded, and pulled her roller backpack behind her as they began to walk towards the entrance.

"Rachel," started out her teacher, "...as much as I appreciate your effort to return, I-I just really don't know if New Directions can ever get back on their feet." He sounded like he genuinely believed himself.

Rachel, feeling determined, retorted, "Mr. Schue, how do you expect them to try and recover if you don't help them?"

She watched as his jaw clenched, and his head shook. "I've done everything I possibly can."

"You and I both know that's not true," stated Rachel, "There's still a lot mo- "

He seemed to finally snap. The broom he had clutched tightly in his grip fell to the floor with a loud noise, making Rachel freeze in suprise. The man put his hands on his hips and began to pace like a caged animal. Rachel could only watch with wide eyes as her teacher had finally reached his breaking point. He seemed to be mumbling things quickly under his breath in rapid succession, his fingers stroking his chin. Rachel knew that breakdowns were healthy in an odd way, so she just let him continue with what he was doing. Of course, whenever she had one she just listened to Idina Menzel and took a dose of Nyquil.

"Mr. Schue," interrupted Rachel, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but we do really need to talk about what we're going to do."

That seemed to snap him out of it. He glanced up at her, his eyes widening, as if he just remembered that she was there with him.

He ran his hands through his hair. "O-of course. Yeah. Plans. We need to talk about plans." He kept repeating it under his breath.

Rachel watched as began to pace, once again. He began to spout off ideas out loud, several of which she protested to, but he continued on as if he hadn't heard her at all. Rachel was beginning to lose her patience, which was in her opinion one of her most pleasant traits. He talked about holding a meeting, where he could bring in an inspirational speaker, which Rachel point out refused. He seemed to finally lose his neuroticism, and he slowly backed against the wall of lockers across from Rachel, pressing his back against them and slowly sliding down. He put his chin on his hands for a couple of seconds, and to Rachel he looked like a lost child. She contemplated going over to him to offer him some comfort to the situation, when he suddenly gained a wicked gleam in his eye. He darted up faster than imaginable, his grin threating to split his face. He snapped his fingers.

"I got it!" He spoke triumphantly.

Rachel raised her eyebrow. "Mr. Schue, as much as I like gues- "

"Sue Sylvester!" He grinned, pointing his finger at her. Rachel was honestly scared for her life.

He walked back and forth, his grin growing wider by the second as he mumbled to himself.

"Mr. Schue," cut in Rachel impatiently, "Can you pl- "

"Think about it Rachel," he swiftly interrupted, "Sue Sylvester tries to destroy her competition by getting someone in _on the inside._"

Rachel honestly didn't care how that crazy excuse of a coach won her competitions, she wanted to know what his plan was. She was honestly on the verge of asking, once again, but then what he was implying finally hit her. Her head snapped up towards Mr. Schue, her eyes widening a fraction, and he grinned at her. Sue Sylvester absolutely _loathed_ the Glee Club with everything she had. It was no secret. She could see where he was going with this. If they could come back, with Rachel by their side and at least a facade of confidence in place, there was no doubt that Sue would target them, and do everything in her power. And Rachel knew how exactly Sue would do that. It wouldn't be the first time a Cheerio was caught observing the competition.

"She'll send one of her Cheerios in," breathed Rachel, "A spy."

She watched as Mr. Schue nodded his head enthusiastically.

It really was ingenious. And although she was definitely not looking forward to having anything to do with any Cheerios, she knew they had to at least try. And maybe if a Cheerio joined them, then more might be inspired to join. It was a loss and a gain as well. Loss of fun with a gain of victory. She just hoped that it was a freshman of some sort.

"Ok," nodded Mr. Schue, his smile still firmly etched. "I'll talk to Sue and plant the seed; so to speak."

Rachel nodded and beamed brightly. "And I'll talk to the club, and see if I can get them to come back."

Mr. Schue nodded at her, but he looked faintly worried. "Please, try your best Rachel," he pleaded.

She nodded in determination. "Don't worry Mr. Schue, you can count on me."

He nodded before picking up his broom and satchel. He gestured toward an empty classroom, and she nodded her head in goodbye. He gave her a faint wave and an encouraging smile as he opened the door to the classroom, and disappeared inside. She watched the doorway for the briefest sescond, before leaning down and grabbing ahold of her pink backpack. Once situated, she rolled down the rest of the hallway of McKinley, a confident grin back on her features, and her mind on overload with all the powerpoints she planned to do when she arrived home. This plan had to be nothing but fool-proof and organized.

Things for the first time this year were looking up.

**Keep Continuing? :)**


	3. Chapter 3

You know, this week has been tough. While studying for a major psychology exam, I started drinking some wine to calm my nerves. Next thing I know, two bottles of wine are gone and I can't read what's written in front of me.

-Coughes-

Notice my approach here? Making the chapters slighly similiar to the ones on the show, just slightly altered because of Finn's choice.

So yeah, it's gonna take a lot of patience if you wanna get through this story. Just a warning. :)

**And Major Warning**: those who like HBIC Quinn will be appreciative, because she will _not _be turning soft like a bunch of people tend to write her. So let's see if I can write a Faberry where Quinn is the permanent Head Bitch, and Rachel is still the obnoxious girl from Glee. And let's see if I can write a realistic relationship of two alpha females trying to be together. This is my attempt at a realistic approach for a relationship between those two. Because let's be honest for a second, we all know they probably wouldn't work out, and if they did, then it wouldn't be all roses. They are both a dominant force, and they would fight all the time. But they have such chemistry that it makes up for all of that. So they will get together eventually, but it sure as hell won't be lovey-dovey. But they will have their moments. ;) So if you like fluff, turn the hell around.

**This is funny: **And that message was for the person who private messaged me, telling me of their impatience and how I need to "get it together". Because apparently, my story "sucks".

Like I said, I welcome flamers and criticisms. :) Thank you for being honest.

R&R.

/

_Part One._

Rachel spluttered as a grape slushie hit her directly in the face.

Apparently her record of a no torture day had finally run its course.

Hearing some scattered laughter, she dejectedly made her way into the restroom across the hall. Slushie was making its way onto the floor as she trudged into the restroom, her emergency kit in hand. She rolled her eyes when she noticed a young girl at a sink looking at her, her mouth open. Rachel ignored the look and walked over to the sinks, attempting to act nonchalant. She placed a shampoo and conditioner bottle on the corner of the sink, and then placed her towel at the edge of it in preparation; grabbing two paper towels after that. Letting out her breath in an annoyed huff, she braced her hands on the sides of the sink, turning on the faucet and dunking her head under the running water. She made sure to wash it thoroughly, running her fingers through it and leaving it for fifteen seconds, before doing it again. When she finally finished, she leaned her head out of the sink and grabbed the two paper towels, drying her neck and forehead. It was a ten minute process normally.

She discarded the paper towels with a sigh, before glancing to the doorway.

Her eyes widened.

The exact same girl was there, still looking at Rachel with wide eyes.

Rachel concluded one thing.

"I'm guessing that with the look on your face, you have never seen anyone slushied before," started Rachel, "so I conclude that you must be a freshman."

Rachel was beginning to think the girl could only pull off one expression.

"And as a fellow student, I would like to say welcome to McKinley High School."

_Part Two._

Rachel made her way to Mr. Schuester's classroom after her final period.

She couldn't wait to hear about what he said to Sue Sylvester, and who was the new addition for New Directions.

And she knew he would be happy when he learned that she had officially regrouped the club. Of course that daunting task had been anything but simple. Kurt and Mercedes had been short with her, asking her why she suddenly cared about them or New Directions. Although she had to bite her cheek several times at their childish accusations, and had to restrain herself from criticising their disco performance, a part of her knew that their anger was partially deserved. As for Artie and Tina, they focused more on the actual humiliation they went through more than the actual anger at her. Rachel was thankful for that, because she got enough of that from the diva duo.

But needless to say, it had still taken a lot of convincing on her part for them to consider rejoining. It had taken an hour of powerpoints before Mercedes claimed that she couldn't take it anymore, rubbing her tembles and storming out the door in a huff. Rachel would have dragged the girl back in to show her a proper diva exit, if she wasn't giddy by her victory. Even if it was won by getting the subjects to claim surrender in annoyance.

But one thing that Rachel did refuse to tell them about, was her and Mr. Schuester's plan. It wasn't that she didn't trust them, she did, but she knew that with a plan like this that few people as possible should know. And a small part of this secrecy was for them themselves. She didn't want them to think that they had blackmailed someone, in their own manipulative way, into joining the club. Their self-esteem was low enough as it was already. So Rachel hopes on their self-esteem and spirits boosting when they find out a new member is in their ranks. And not just any member, a Cheerio. One of the most popular cliques in the school, joining the Glee Club, could only mean a strong morale boost, right? And maybe -though the idea was slightly absurd- there would be less slushie attacks against New Directions. She honestly couldn't remember the last time a Cheerio had gotten a slushie facial. She thinks it stopped after Sue Sylvester got involved that one day; the boy's parents still claiming to this day that Sue had, in her terms, "allegedly" tapped him on his head.

She knocked on the open door of the Spanish classroom, alerting Mr. Schue to her presence.

He grinned when he saw her, and gestured her inside.

He shut the door behind him as he walked towards his desk, sitting down in his chair and hurriedly pulling out a notebook. His eyes seemed to search the pages as he opened it and began to quickly flip through it. His eyes seemed to brighten when he came across the page he was looking for, and he placed it on the desk in front of him. Rachel anxiously leaned forward and tried to read the messy scrawl on the page. But Mr. Schue quickly interlocked his fingers, laying his hands on the notebook, and making it impossible for Rachel to see. She huffed in annoyance.

"Mr. Schue, I came here today to officially tell you that New Directions is officially reinstated," huffed Rachel, impatiently. She didn't mean to come off that way, but she really wanted to know what he was hiding in that notebook, and how everything had gone on Friday with Sue Sylvester. Rachel had been waiting all day to know what had happened, and now that she was here, she wanted answers.

Mr. Schue looked a tad mischevious. "I talked to Sue -"

Rachel nearly threw up her hands in impatience and annoyance.

"Yes, Mr. Schue, I'm quite aware of that," stated Rachel, "and right now I'm inquiring as to how the meeting with Coach Sylvester turned out, and if everything has gone acc- "

Will interrupted with a triumphant smile. "We just added three students to the New Directions team."

Rachel's eyes widened in excitement. "Three?"

He grin seemed to grow even more. "They just auditioned this afternoon, and they did a pretty good job if I say so myself."

Rachel had a chelshire grin on her face, her hands fidgeting in excitement.

She expected one, but three? And that actually could perform? Now she was beyond desperate to know who it was.

"Mr. Schue," tried Rachel, keeping her voice casual, but curious, "may I inquire as to who it is that has joined New Directions?"

This time was a little different. His grin seemed to drop the tiniest fraction, and his brows seemed to crease. He looked faintly worried, and he looked as if he was about to decline her question. Rachel immediately had an argument planned in her head for when that happened. But she could only watch in exasperation as he used a rather ridiculous stall tactic, shuffling his papers on his desk nervously and organizing all of the little trinkets he used. He finally seemed to stop when he realized he couldn't really stall anymore than he already had, and his weariness released itself in a weary and slightly nervous sigh.

He grasped the notebook page and looked down, but Rachel knew he already knew exactly who was on that apparent list. That's what it must have been, she realized. It was a list with the names and the performance critiques on it. Rachel knew it was the critical and competitive part of her, but she felt the urge to rip the notebook out of his hands and run out the door with it, and after running a safe distance, read what he wrote in the notebook.

That whole plan wasn't plausible, right?

She watched as he seemed to take a deep breath.

"Three of Sue's Cheerios have joined the team," muttered Mr. Schue. Rachel's mouth opened in shock.

He cleared his throat, continuing. "They sang an excellent rendition of 'Say A Little Prayer'."

Rachel frowned slightly. That was most certainly an odd audition piece. You would think when auditioning for show choir you would want to use the normal approach of renditioning a Broadway classic. So she concluded that this group of girls probably didn't have a strong knowledge concerning Broadway or show choir. It made her a bit uneasy, but she would do everything she could to make sure that they all had proper training, and that they all knew everything there was to know about Broadway before they left high school. She felt a little excitement in the pit of her stomach.

"That's wonderful Mr. Schue, but I would like to know their names," started Rachel, "because I would like to meet them and officially wel -"

He looked considerably uncomfortable now. "I really don't know if that's a good idea Rachel."

She was slightly stung at his response. It must have reflected on her face, because he hurriedly continued.

"I-I'm sorry Rachel. It's just I know that you have never really gotten along with these girls," started Mr. Schue, "and you know that Sue would only send in her best."

Rachel felt the excitement in her stomach suddenly turn into something horrible. She felt something rise up in her throat, and completely lodge there; it was probably acid. That's really the only thing that could describe the way her stomach suddenly felt like it was in a horrible tangle of knots, and the burning that made its way from her stomach to her throat like a cheap burning alcohol after it was swallowed.

He didn't even need to read the names, because she was pretty sure she knew who it was.

"Who are they Mr. Schue?" She couldn't even accomplish putting confidence back in her voice.

He looked at her a long moment, before looking down at his notebook with a sigh.

He didn't even say anything, he just grasped the notebook before he pushed it forward across the desk.

She grasped it so hard the edges of the pages crinkled. She looked at the messy scrawl of names he had jotted down.

_Quinn Fabray._

_Santana Lopez._

_Brittany Pierce._

Rachel closed her eyes as the previous optimism that remained with her the entire week evaded her body.

She opened her eyes to find Mr. Schue looking at her sympathetically. She slid the notebook back towards him, remaining completely silent.

His expression suddenly turned serious, and had the slightest hint of pleading.

"Rachel, I-I know this will be extremely difficult for you. But as your teacher I'm asking you to put aside all personal differences with these girls."

Rachel remained silent. It wasn't as if she had a real choice in the matter. She just knew that she wanted to get out of there, and quick. She had too much pride to let anyone see her cry; she had been slushied and bullied since her freshman year, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let the Devil in teenage girl form make her cry in front of her teacher. She just nodded her head.

"I will put aside all my differences, Mr. Schue," whispered Rachel, watching the relief manifest over his face rapidly, "but it's only for the sake of New Directions and nothing more."

She stood up and grabbed her pink backpack, making her way over to the door quietly.

Just as she exited and closed the door quietly, she heard him speak.

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

_Part Three._

The last week hadn't been quite as awful as Rachel had imagined it would.

But needless to say, it had still been awful.

She remembered watching her fellow teammates look of complete shock as Quinn, Santana, and Brittany walked through the door of the choir room. She had to stop a look of sourness as she noticed their struts and arrogant masks in place. She couldn't quite stop the scowl when Kurt and Mercedes began to whisper to each other excitedly. Artie and Tina seemed to be with her though, as they looked torned between looking suprised and just grimacing altogether. They had all fallen silent when Mr. Schuester had introduced them officially as three new members of New Directions. Kurt and Mercedes began to fire off question after question as the Cheerios just stood there, somewhat bored and reluctant looks on their faces. Rachel just rolled her eyes when they walked over to the corner of the room, making their way up to the top of the seats. They didn't participate the first day.

It had been like that all week.

They would just come in and sit the furthest they could away from anybody; talking only to each other occasionally and grimacing. And of course this was after they had their fill of insulting Rachel when Mr. Schue was not presently in the room. And every once in a while they would ask a question about the muscial number and dance steps, their questions with a strong undertone of snideness and noncaring. But other than that, they didn't speak to anyone at all. And it couldn't be more obvious to Rachel that they most certainly did not want to be here. So their attitudes just proved to Rachel that Sue Sylvester had all but inforced them to come; no doubtedly putting Quinn's captaincy on the line in order to make sure this happened. As well as threats to Santana and Brittany if they wanted to keep their place at the top of the pyramid.

But the three cheerladers were a conundrum to Rachel. She honestly couldn't figure them out.

On one hand, Brittany wasn't all that bad at times. She was slightly different, yes, but she wasn't necessarily mean on purpose. She didn't throw insults left and right at Rachel like Quinn and Santana seemed to; instead it was little comments that Brittany seemed oblivious to it actually being an insult until Santana smirked and interlocked their pinkies. A perfect example was yesterday at practice. It was the oddest encounter Rachel had ever had _period._

_Flashback:_

_Rachel was honestly frozen in fear as the tallest Cheerio, Brittany, had made her way over to her and plopped down beside her._

_She just looked at Rachel with a speculative look, reaching over and grabbing her hands and putting them on her lap._

_She just watched her with wide eyes as she traced the lines of her hands, occasionally furrowing her brow and mumbling something under her breath. Rachel could only hope that Brittany stopped soon, because she didn't want to be on the recieving end of a furious lashing when Santana and Quinn returned to the room. She could only let out nervous breaths as Brittany continued on with her ministrations, stroking Rachel's hands delicatedly now and smiling every once in a while. There was no trace of maliciousness as she looked up at Rachel directly._

_"U-uh Brittany, while I agree that my hands are very fascinating- "_

_"You know, I don't know why Q and S call you Man-Hands," stated Brittany, her voice soft, "you actually have very pretty hands."_

_Rachel just looked at her uncertainly. "Oh - well, thank you Brittany, the comment is much appre- "_

_"You know, my mom showed me a picture of my Grandma Georgia before she died," muttered Brittany, her voice casual, "she was my favorite."_

_Rachel could only gape at the girl. "I-I'm terribly sorry for your loss Brittany."_

_The girl only shrugged._

_Rachel continued, quite unperturbed. "While I don't mean in any way to be disrespectful, do you mind telling me the purpose of this conv -"_

_"You dress like her."_

_End Flashback._

So Rachel honestly didn't know what to think when it came to Brittany. She would just decide on calling her the lesser of three evils.

And Santana Lopez was a whole other thing altogether. She honestly couldn't decipher the Latina girl, seeing as she didn't know her all that well. The only time Santana and her interact is when she is hurling insults along with Quinn, or throwing a slushie into Rachel's face with her signature smirk in place. That, or every once in a while Santana or Quinn would shoulder check her while passing by, snickering when her books fell to the floor. So she didn't know the girl all that well, but from the things she had seen, the girl wasn't an altogether fun person to be around.

And Quinn Fabray, well she was exactly that, Quinn Fabray.

The girl certainly didn't miss a day when it came to tormenting Rachel. There were days that were not so bad, that Quinn actually looked to be smiling in genuiness as she walked down the hall with Finn. On those days Rachel didn't recieve the full brunt of the dominant force that she usually recieved, it was only a fraction; a snide comment with a sneer. And on other days, days that Quinn was scowling and fighting with Finn and Sue Sylvester, she recieved the full force of it; snide comments throughout the day with a slushie on the side. And Rachel would never forget that one day where she had crossed the line of Quinn's 'patience' and was dumpster dumped by Karofsky. She still felt a jolt of anger when she remembered the blonde's smirking face, her eyes sparkling with what Rachel guessed was unadulterated loathing.

She had thought perhaps Quinn's torturing methods might stop now that she was in Glee with her; no such luck. It didn't get worse, but it didn't really get any better either. It was like an endless circle of screwed up social heirachy and torment. It never seemed to really stop at McKinley High, and Rachel surmised that it probably never would either.

_Ah, speaking of the she-devil herself, _groaned Rachel inwardly.

Quinn Fabray was standing in front of her with her arms crossed, a bored look on her face. Santana was right by her side.

"Believe me, RuPaul, I want this conversation just as much as you do," sneered Quinn.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Please, Quinn, if you've just come up to mindlessly insult me then your wasting your time."

Santana snorted. "Down, boy."

Rachel glowered at her.

Santana met her gaze unflinchingly. "Listen up Snoopy, we're not here to have a pleasant little squabble. This is about Glee Club."

Rachel couldn't help the suprised expression that crossed her face.

Quinn and Santana smirked at her, causing her to instantly narrow her eyes in suspicion.

"And what is it exactly that you would like to talk about?" Rachel kept her voice professional.

"Mr. Schuester," scoffed Quinn. "He's a good vocal coach, but he couldn't choreograph a decent dance routine to save his life."

Rachel instantly had to smother down the intense feeling to defend her teacher. She glared instead.

"I know he's not amazing in terms of classical Broadway," began Rachel, "but he has his own sense of style that I think stands ou- "

"His own sense of style sucks," sneered Santana.

"That is, if you can even call it a sense of style," smirked Quinn.

Rachel shook her head at them in anger, and promptly turned away from them and began walking in the opposite direction down the hall. She was used to them insulting her nonstop, but she wouldn't stand them insulting Mr. Schue any longer or New Directions. The man might not be great at choreographing, but he certainly wasn't bad at it either. And you might think she was being hypocritical when it came to defending New Directions while they were being blatantly insulted, but that was a totally different matter at hand. New Directions actually needed her input when it came to musical strategy; blunt as it was at times. They certainly didn't need the advice from the people who had tortured them endlessly from the day they had walked through the front doors of the school. Not everyone had their own budget system like the Cheerios did; which they go over every year.

She stiffened when she felt a set of arms loop around both of her arms.

"You know it's not polite to walk away when someone's talking to you," murmured Quinn, using that fake sickly-sweet voice.

"Right," bit out Rachel, "because you have always been the polite one during our interactions."

"You are really pushing my buttons, Berry," intoned Quinn, her voice remaining deadly sweet.

Rachel winced as Quinn's arms tightened painfully around her right arm. A part of her wanted to desperately keep pushing the girl despite the consequences, and the other part of her was curious as to why the two Cheerios had approached her concerning the matter of Glee. The latter finally won out as they continued walking down the hall, gaining odd and disbelieving looks.

She felt Quinn tug her to the end of the hall, where hardly any students were lurking. She watched as Santana released her, examining her own arm as if she was checking for something.

"Just checking for rabies," mumbled Santana. Quinn sniggered and shoved Rachel's arm back towards her, causing Rachel to stumble slightly.

Rachel huffed out in annoyance. "If this is going to continue then I am not going to waste my time listening to the likes of- "

"Anyways, as we were saying before," interrupted Quinn, waving off Rachel's indignant expression, "if this club is going to continue, then we need a trained choreographer."

Rachel bit back her impatient sigh. There was no way any of them could afford a trained choreographer. Hell, Mr. Schue himself was paying money each month so that New Directions could have the choir room and the auditorium to practice in. There was no way they could have enough money to pay for a choreographer. And she was pretty sure none of them had jobs, so she knew that was not gonna happen anytime soon. As much as Rachel wanted to help contribute, she honestly didn't the time to go out and find a job; her dance and MySpace schedule made her way too busy to even consider it.

"You know Quinn, not everyone has the fantastic budget that the Cheerios have," huffed Rachel, "we can't just hire a choreographer when we feel like it."

"Relax Yeti," spoke Santana, her voice patronizing, "we already have someone lined up."

Rachel threw her irritation at the insult away when her curiosity peaked. "Who?"

Quinn shrugged. "Dakota Stanley. He's the lead choreographer for Vocal Adrenaline."

Rachel gaped.

Santana examined her nails and spoke questioningly. "Didn't they win Regionals last year?"

Rachel looked scandalized. "If you knew anything about the realm of show choir then you would know that Vocal Adrenal- "

Quinn swiftly interjected. "I think in canine terms that means yes."

Santana snorted.

Rachel threw up her hands and huffed. "If you're just going to keep outright insulting me, then you can take up your concerns with Mr. Schue himself."

The two Cheerio's eyes suddenly narrowed.

It finally hit Rachel what they were actually doing. Of course they didn't want to go up to Mr. Schue himself; they wanted her to do it for them. They wanted to put her in the line of fire for if the entire thing backfired. They wanted _the _female lead to call out Mr. Schue so that it would bring his confidence down, and perhaps knock him out of the running for good. That was the only ulterior motive that Rachel could think of. A big part of her believed it to be true, but a smaller part of her wanted to believe that they were doing this to help New Directions; in their own messed up way. She honestly didn't know which side of hers to actually trust in this situation. Maybe the Cheerios just wanted a choreographer so that it would make them feel less humiliated about the entire thing. Rachel honestly didn't know.

"Look, Berry, you're lucky we're even in this damn club," growled Quinn, "and we refuse to make a fool of ourselves."

Rachel sighed.

"We want Dakota Stanley because he _is _the best that there is," finished the blonde, looking as annoyed as ever.

Rachel looked at both Quinn and Santana, trying to determine the truth. They were both looking at her with their arms crossed, and their gazes unflinching. All she could do was fidget with her hands nervously, biting her lip and looking down the long hallway to where all the students were chatting happily. She wished she was like that sometimes; carefree. Some of those kids didn't have to worry about getting slushied on a daily basis, or getting thrown in the dumpster just because they were in a club that were viewed as outcasts. They didn't have to worry about being humiliated every minute of every entire school day.

"C'mon Berry, we don't have all day," snapped Santana.

Rachel just continued to look down the hall at the students.

_I won't make a fool of myself._

"How exactly do we get Dakota Stanley?"

_Part Four._

Okay, so maybe hiring Dakota Stanley had not been one of Rachel's better judgements.

But she couldn't be blamed entirely for this situation. Okay, maybe she could.

The Cheerios gave her a choice and she obviously chose the wrong one. But in some self-defense, who knows what could have happened to her if she had completely denied their idea. She probably would have been slushied, dumpster dumped, and patriotic wedgied all in the same day. Could you really blame her? But admittedly, a part of this was her fault. She could have tried harder to convince Mr. Schuester that they had made a mistake in hiring Dakota Stanley, and that they all voted, besides the Cheerios, that he should return. Because he never came to the practices anymore, and when he did, he seemed to be in a whole other universe that for once didn't concern them. When she had confronted him about it, asking him to return, he denied her and told her that he was occupied with his ridiculous boy-band Acafellas.

_Of all the ridiculous things._

So after that, she didn't try anymore. A part of it, she admitted, was part of her own selfish pride. She certainly had not appreciated the slight arrogant tone he had possessed when he told her no, and that she should go ahead and hire 'Montana,' because he now had Acafellas going on. She felt her pride and dignity take a slight hit after his cheerful refusal; after she put herself on the line and pleaded. So after that, she had given up. She had decided they might as well go ahead and try the man out, seeing as he had a stellar reputation. She heard some horror stories of his training methods, but she had believed they were tremendously exaggerated.

Apparently they weren't.

She could only gape as he threw out insult after insult at them, all the while looking as if they were nothing more than the dirt underneath his shoes.

Of course, he praised Quinn, Santana, and Brittany as he passed them by.

"Perfect," flounced Dakota, an approving smiling in place.

Rachel felt her fists clench when the three of them smiled at him sweetly. She watched as they continuously hid smirk after smirk as he threw insult after insult. Of course this had been their plan the entire time; humiliate them in every way possible. They probably thought Dakota Stanley would be the one to do it, and Rachel couldn't deny that he was doing a spectacular job at bringing down their confidence to an all-time low. She watched in slight horror as Mercedes loudly exclaimed her opinion, walking to the door with her fists clenched. Kurt seemed to really lay into Dakota, telling him that he couldn't bring people down just because he didn't like they way they looked; of course Dakota fired right back. One comment from him about Kurt's supposed sexuality and Kurt was walking to the door with Mercedes, looking more angry than she had ever seen him.

Tina and Artie followed shortly after, the both of them looking hurt and angry.

She was the only one left, along with the Cheerios.

He surveyed her. "Your singing is quite impressive, but you definitely need to do something about that nose honey."

Rachel's jaw clenched, and it took all of her power not to let her eyes well with tears.

He nodded as if his evaluation was done. "Nose job." Then he walked towards the piano, getting out his satchel. He pulled out several sheets of paper and folded them neatly on top of the piano.

Rachel's throat closed up. She could see the Cheerios looking at her from the corner of her eyes, seeing as they were standing right next to her. They were looking at her with an almost anxious gaze. They were probably waiting for her to leave the room like the rest of them had. Santana had her hand on Brittany's arm, stroking it gently as they looked at Dakota Stanley with an impatient gaze. Rachel, however, noticed Quinn still looking at her out of the corner of her eyes. She took a breath, trying to stop her wounded pride from showing, when she turned her head and met Quinn's gaze. The blonde's hazel gaze flickered at her with that weird intensity again, but all Rachel could do back was manage an angry gaze at the girl. She narrowed her eyes at the blonde, shaking her head before turning her gaze back towards Dakota Stanley, not wanting to look at the girl any more than she had to right now.

She was Rachel Barbara Berry, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let this man walk all over her.

She put her head up in the air, and walked towards the front of the classroom in her confident strut.

She stopped right in front of Dakota Stanley, who was currently looking at her with a look of suprise.

She was Rachel Barbara Berry.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stanley, but New Directions is no longer in need of your services."

He gaped at her.

"And also," began Rachel, smirking, "I'm taller than you."

_Part Five._

Convincing Mr. Schuester to come back to New Directions was a lot harder than Rachel thought it would be.

When she went and told him that they had gotten rid of Dakota Stanley, she had expected him to come right back.

He hadn't.

He had insisted that he was continuing with Acafellas, and that he would help them every once in a while when required.

Rachel had to strongly bite back a retort at that. So all she did was wait for the man to come to his senses, because she's pretty sure his dreams of Acafellas going large were not going to happen anytime soon. And she knew she sounded quite cynical when she said that, but she was just stating the obvious truth here. There were so many boy-bands out there right now that she couldn't even keep count. So the chance of a band who sang songs about girls in harmony, wearing top hats and having Coach Tanaka attempting to dance in a sexy manner, were just about slim to none. But she went ahead and waited until the man actually realized it for himself. And along with that realization, came one for Rachel herself.

She had went to that ridiculous Acafellas show that they had hosted in the school auditorium on Friday night.

She couldn't even begin to fathom how 'I Wanna Sex You Up' was deemed appropriate for the school auditorium. She had cringed when she noticed Coach Tanaka _and _Sandy Ryerson swaying their hips along with the beat of the song; which was a sex song. Rachel was sure she had been scarred for life.

But then the next member began to sing, and Rachel's eyes had widened. She honestly couldn't believe how she hadn't spotted him at the beginning of the song. But then she remembered that Sandy Ryerson and Coach Tanaka were huge distractions; not in a good way at all. In fact, it had made her want to vomit. But she had pushed aside her want to cough up her tofu when she noticed who began to sing.

'Puck'.

At first she had wondered how he even ended up in this ridiculous group. Was he blackmailed possibly?

But she had pushed aside her investigation when he began to move across the stage. She had listened closely and evaluated his voice.

She had been pleasantly suprised.

She wouldn't call him amazing material, but he was certainly good. There were a few vocal cords that he couldn't quite hit high enough, which was not a bad thing because he obviously hadn't been properly trained like Rachel had. But he honestly had plenty of potential, and with the right vocal coach, her, she could make him into a possible male lead. His voice was a little on the deeper side, and at times got slightly scratchy, but Rachel admitted that it was appealing in its own weird way; it could be especially appealing if he practiced right and could hit those higher cords in his deep voice.

She now had the male lead she had been after.

It would take a lot of convincing, because he was Noah Puckerman; she had looked up his full name in the yearbook as soon as she had arrived home that night.

He was popular, and he was the so-called stud of the school, so he probably would have nothing to do with Glee Club.

But Rachel could at least try, right?

So that's why she was currently making her way down the hall; she was going to sneak into the football locker room and ask him when no one was around. She could only hope that she wouldn't get caught in the locker rooms, because she had already been through enough humiliation without the school finding out she had been parading in the boy's locker rooms like a stalker. Of course the term stalking was a strong word that Rachel was reluctant to use. Really, if it was called anything it should be called determination. Because like she had said before, if there was the possibility of her catching sight of a male lead, then she would stop at nothing to convince the boy to join New Directions. That's why she had a map clutched tightly in her hands, as well as a time schedule. She had made sure to organize this plan out perfectly.

She had memorized the boy's entire school schedule, and she knew that football practice was at the very end of the school day. She also memorized the best routes as to not be detected by any possible threats; other football players and Cheerios. She also memorized the Cheerio's schedule as to not be detected by them. Because she knew if she were caught by them the consequences of her actions would be dire. Utter humiliation.

That's why she chastised herself on possibly getting the time wrong, because she suddenly had to scurry around a corner and hunch down behind a laundry basket.

She heard shouting, and not just any regular shout.

Sue Sylvester.

She had almost gotten completely through the Cheerio's locker room.

She cursed the grand architect who thought it was a smart idea to connect the girl's locker room to the boy's. They were only a small hallway across from each other, located down in the West End of the building. That section of the building also led into the gymnasium, which was located right down the hall from the locker rooms. It also had its own double set of doors that led outside directly onto the football field. She had to sneak through the Cheerio's locker rooms because all the rest of the school's doors were locked after school had ended. Except for the gymnasium and the locker rooms. And from the past two days Rachel had observed, the Cheerios always ended their practice promptly thirty minutes before the football players did. That gave enough time for them to clean up and leave before the football players had even finished.

She concluded it also probably had something to do with the football player from last year; he was caught snooping in the girl's showers.

So she had devised a plan to wait for all the cheerleaders to leave the locker room, and then go in when they weren't present. It gave her an excuse if she was caught in the locker room hallway. And then once all the boy's had finished up in their locker room, she would go in for her plan of attack. She had watched Noah, and he always left the last. Him and Finn. So she hadn't been worried about today because of her well devised plan; which she had spent two days and countless hours on, by the way.

But now, all hunched over and barely breathing at all, she was.

She honestly had not been aware that anyone was still present in the girl's locker room. Sue's office door had been shut, and all the lights were low.

And with her fabulous luck, she was right around the corner from Sue's office.

She could only wince as Sue's shouts ran out, and she prepared mentally for any situation that might possibly occur.

She froze completely when the door to Sue's office swung open with a bang.

"Get the hell out of my sight, Fabray! And remember, I want those five pounds gone by next week!"

If it were possible she went even more rigid. She kept herself as quiet as she could as she peered through a crack between the wall and the laundry basket. She watched as Quinn Fabray came into her line of sight, walking over to the lockers with her head down slightly. The blonde rested her head against the locker for a minute, her hands grasping nimbly at her cross necklace. Her normally flawless ponytail was slightly messy, with tendrils of her blonde hair falling into her face, which was still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. There was a slight clob of dirt on the side of her uniform, as well as on both of the girl's kneecaps. There was also a layer of medical tape wrapped around the girl's ankle. Rachel honestly didn't know why she was paying that much attention to Quinn Fabray, but she was.

Maybe a part of her wanted to see if Quinn Fabray actually was human.

But the way the blonde pressed her forehead against the locker, her face an expression of misery and discontent, Rachel realized that she was.

So the pretty girl did have feelings.

Rachel muffled a squeak when Quinn begin to walk toward the showers; she hurriedly turned her head back around respectively and faced the wall.

The image of the girl against the locker burned in her mind.

Noah Puckerman could wait until tomorrow.

**Feedback. Still goin' strong?**


	4. Warning

Wow, guys. 41 Reviews but 78 on the story alert list and favorited? You guys suck at reviewing. :) You guys are lucky I'm not one of those ass-kissing authors who complain about lack of reviews, or one of those 'I will only continue this story if I get this many reviews a chapter.' Pfftttt...no. I'm happy you guys like it. :)

**This is not an update**. I just wanted to apologize about the delayedness. My finals are coming up and I've been studying my ass off. And after seeing HP7 my heart is back in the friggin HP fandom again. But don't worry, I'm slowly coming back into Glee again, because I love it and I refuse to abandon a story or put it on hiatus. I think it's only fair that I wait until my finals are over and my heart is fully in the Glee fandom again so I can make the next chapter extra long and my best yet. Speaking of which:

**Warnings About Next Chapter: **I have labeled this story under angst/drama and I intend to fully enforce that next chapter. The next chapter will be considerably brutal. Not in the way you would think. There will be more Rachel and Quinn interactions, but they will have a large buildup until that moment comes. It's going to be subtle and in-character, so don't expect the cliche love declarations or the very popular sudden sex. -coughs- And another thing, I do not bash characters. I may put them so that their actions are harsh and necessary for the story-line, but I don't bash. And one more thing: Quinn and Finn will stay together for a considerable amount of time. And there will be a little Puck and Rachel later on. But remember, they only lasted through Mash-Up, so I'm not gonna change that. Just remember for that one chapter that they want different people. Well, Rachel won't know what she wants by then. ;) Let's say she will be a little on the confused side. ;)

I'm sorry this isn't an update. I will have a new chapter up before Sunday. I promise. :)

Signing Off,

WickedFan97


	5. Chapter 4

Just a sypnosis about my warning last chapter: about the review thing, it honestly was meant to be stated as a fact and as a joke. It honestly doesn't mean a big deal to me. I'm actually quite inspired by a lot of the good authors of the fandom taking time out of their day to leave me positive feedback. :) It's quality, not quantity. And for constant messages about characterizations, that's just me telling everyone my plans. Because I have already gotten two private messages telling me my story seems to be moving quite slow, and that they should be starting to transition right now. Yeah, I really don't think they read my author's warnings. And the last post was not a show of arrogance, though it may be perceived as such, I genuinely wanted to apologize about my lack of update, because I did promise an update a week. So I do apologize if that came off as rude or arrogant, that's honestly not what I was trying to do.

And I wasn't dissing the PWP's either, I've read a few good ones in this fandom. And as for the cliche ones we have all read at some point, I wasn't dissing them either, though it did sound like I was. I was saying that's not what I was doing. I appreciate any Faberry story, so don't think I'm dissing author's works, I'm just saying I'm doing something different. I don't believe I have outright bashed anyone, so don't claim I am. And as for characterizations, I'm not being snobby, I'm just saying what I plan to do. And to the 'concerns' over Quinn not changing, she will, but it will be an extra slow transition. But she certainly won't be sweet as sugar. And to those who actually have an eye for these things, I plan to delve deeper into these characters more than the show did. It will stay in the point of view that leans toward Rachel, but you will be able to watch these characters change slowly. So that was for the 'I do not appreciate HBIC Quinn. People change in high school.'

So yeah, that was in response to the major heat I recieved from several authors; review form and private message form. But thank you for the positive reviewers that made up for the negative ones. This chapter is for you.

Oooh, you flamers got me firing up even more now. :)

Wow, when did I become the Kanye West of the fandom? Oh, it makes me laugh.

_/_

_/_

_Part_ _One._

The image of Quinn burned in her mind the rest of the night.

Even as she performed her nightly MySpace video.

It wasn't an overwhelming sympathy or pity she felt for the girl, it was more like a realization that came to mind every time she recalled it. It was the startling realization that Quinn Fabray was more similiar to Rachel than anyone at McKinley High School. Sure, the surface areas were different; social circles, career paths, attitudes, finance situations. But it was actually underneath all that. Quinn was ambitious, and stopped at the nothing to get to the top and stay there. Both her and Rachel could be unnecessarily harsh while talking to someone; she would actually like to think of it as a difference, seeing as she was giving out her opinions and knowledge, and Quinn was just completely vicious for no apparent reason at all. And while Rachel didn't like the confrontations that Quinn seemed to thrive on, she would admit that she could be just as fierce and unyielding as Quinn could be. And the both of them seemed to strive for praise from just about anyone.

The comparison of their personalities was actually a bit eery for Rachel.

She honestly didn't know why she felt an odd hope flutter in her chest as she stared at her laptop, awaiting responses to her newest video.

She bit her lip as she noticed all of the Cheerios online.

Maybe for once she wanted to be praised by her enemy. She didn't care if they acted harsh in school, that was a normal day at McKinley, but it would be nice if she could even get recognized for her talent away from the prying eyes of the school. Maybe one would actually compliment her, because she honestly had put her heart into this video and sang her absolute best. She would probably call herself a fool later on after another inevitable disappointment, but she could hope, because what is more of a confidence booster than getting praise from the enemy?

Maybe it wasn't all the Cheerios she wanted praise from; only one.

Her eyes lit up as she noticed a new message appear on the screen.

_Sky Splits: If I were your parents, I would sell you back._

She slammed down the top of her laptop harder than necessary, her face angry.

She huffed as she realized maybe it was too difficult for the Cheerio to put aside her childishness for once and be honest with her.

All she could do is put her chin up and grab her water bottle, walking away from her computer.

Whatever she had just hoped for from Quinn was now all over, and all that was left was that familiar sting of resentment. She honestly couldn't believe that she was fooled enough to think the girl was not superficial. Because given her actions and her daily comments everyday, she clearly was. She couldn't believe that earlier she had actually contemplated approaching Quinn and offering her friendship. Rachel knew now that it would never happen, because although they were similiar, their past and the resentment they felt for each other were too overwhelming to move past.

She realized that now.

All that she thought earlier about Quinn Fabray; she took it back with anger and tears stinging her eyes.

_Part Two._

By the next day Rachel had forgotten about her anger and hurt.

She currently had bigger and more pressing matters at hand.

She had thrown her plans of confronting Noah alone out the window. Because he was constantly surrounded by girls, and the rare moment of when he wasn't, he was with Finn. So Rachel marched down the hall, determination plastered across her face, as she headed toward the boy's locker. She would most likely be slushied and sneered at, but that had happened so much it was almost a daily ritual by now. She was tired of planning and plotting and never getting anywhere with it. She was going to approach this situation head on. She let out a breath when she realized he was all alone at his locker, leaning up against it and smirking at the girls passing by.

She stopped directly in front of him.

She cleared her throat exaggeratedly when he didn't notice her presence; he was currently cocking his head to the side and following a brunette Cheerio's movements down the hall.

His head snapped towards hers. His brows seem to furrow as he gazed at her. Rachel felt the urge to swat his arm and give him a proper lecture on respecting women, because he was currently glancing at her up and down fervently. She could feel her stomach clenching in anticipation as he evaluated her. He finally seemed to finish his evaluation, and the cocky smirk reappeared on his face.

"Not bad," muttered Puck.

Rachel couldn't contain her scoff.

"So, my dear, what can the Puckasaurus do for you today?"

Rachel pushed aside her dwindling patience. He currently turned his body around so that it was facing her, his side against the locker and his arm above her head; famous smirk still alight on his face. His face was close to hers, and she had to push down the sudden unpleasant twisting of her stomach as she smelled the tobacco on his breath.

Rachel spoke in confidence. "Hello Noah, I am Rachel Berry, and after watching you perform with Acafellas, I am here to extend you an invitation to join Glee Club."

She watched as his face contorted into several emotions. It finally seemed to settle on stunned. He seemed to glance around, looking to see if this was a prank from someone. Rachel could only fidget her hands in anticipation as he leaned back up against the locker, a sneer on his face. He crossed his arms, and cockiness seemed to reappear.

"It's Puck," sneered the mohawked boy, "so don't call me Noah."

Rachel could only blink in disbelief. That what he was on about?

She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, Puck."

He nodded at her and raised his eyebrow.

She continued on bravely. "So do you think you would be interested in joining Glee Club? Because you have a good voice and I think you should embrac- "

He scoffed and uncrossed his arms. "I'm not interested in joining your little Queer Parade, Berry."

She could feel indignance build up in her. She put her hands on her hips and lifted her face close to his. He regarded her with arrogance and daring. She decided that she was tired of playing nice, her version of nice, and she was going to hit him where it hurt. She knew the boy prided himself on his conquests and his 'studliness.' She also knew that he was quite prideful on being Jewish, and she had heard him complain to Finn a few times, when she was _not_ spying on him, that he needed more Jewish friends and Jewish pride. So Rachel planned to use these two cards, and if these didn't work, then she didn't know what would. Rachel didn't consider this blackmail or manipulation at all, she considered this a quicker form of consideration.

"You're right," stated Rachel, pompously, "I thought you might help a fellow Jew out, but I guess not. Besides, we need studly guys in New Directions."

She watched as his face transformed in a rapidness that startled her. He looked considerably offended.

She turned around on the spot, making sure that her hair whipped him in the face, before strutting away. She did a silent countdown in her head as she heard rapid footsteps, following by a strong hand grasping her arm. She gasped in suprise when she felt him push her aginst the locker, a sneer on his face. She couldn't help but feel a tremor of fear go down her spine. His arms pressed against the lockers above her head, and she could see the muscles through the simple white t-shirt he was wearing. When he noticed where her gaze was directed, he smirked.

"Please," smirked Puck, "everyone knows I'm the studliest guy in this school."

She was astounded by his cockiness, and even though she heard about it through people, she didn't think it was this bad.

"I could wear a dress to school and _still_ be considered a stud."

Rachel rolled her eyes, trying to seem as if his closeness and attitude didn't bother her. "Then why don't you prove it?"

"I know what you're trying to do," exclaimed Puck, angrily.

"And what am I trying to do exactly?" Rachel couldn't quite tone down the mocking in her voice.

She watched as he seemed to be torn between being impressed by her mockery of him, and being on the brink of frustration. His hands seemed to come up over his mohawk and clench together tightly; a clear sign of building frustration. But he also raised his eyebrow at her, and he seemed to be scrutinizing her again. He finally seemed to release the tension he built up, as he released his clenched hands from his head and moved them to his pockets. His shoulders loosened and he lost the frustration and anger from his face. He released a breath and looked down both ends of the hallway, watching the some of the students just mess around. A few of them seemed to be watching Rachel and Puck with rapt attention, almost expecting something to happen. He bit his lip and looked back at her, nodding his head.

"I'll think about it," muttered the boy gruffly, "but that's not a yes."

Rachel beamed.

"And this conversation never happened," finished Puck.

She nodded her head.

"Thank you," spoke Rachel, genuinely, "I know that Quinn and Santana certainly need a familiar face in there, it might take their aggressions off of- "

Puck choked out, "_Fabray and Lopez_ are in Glee?"

"Yes," nodded Rachel, "though it's quite apparent that they are rather reluctant to be."

"Fabray in Glee Club," murmured Puck.

"I tried to get Finn in as well but it was completely fruitless," grumbled Rachel, not entirely over her bitterness concerning that.

"So Fabray is in the club, but Finn isn't?" His question had something she couldn't quite identify.

She just nodded in confirmation.

His entire body language seemed to transform in the blink of an eye. One of his hands came up and scratched the back of his neck, and the hand in his front pocket moved to his back pocket; a subtle sign of nervousness. He glanced back down the hallway and frowned, biting his lip and shifting his feet. Rachel didn't know what his sudden nervousness or complete turn of thoughts was for. She thought he had already given her his answer concerning the means of the club, but apparently he was reconsidering after she mentioned Quinn being in the club. Due to her sixth sense, she had that foreboding feeling that this was something that nobody else seemed to know or realize. It was now tugging at her brain and she could feel an inkling of what it might be concerning.

But as he started muttering to himself, and couldn't even bring himself to notice Karofsky's dumbfounded look at seeing the two together, it just confirmed it for Rachel. It was only logical, now that she thought about it. She caught the way he mocked and sneered at Quinn sometimes, but when the blonde kissed Finn's cheek or grasped his hand and smiled at him, Puck seemed to scoff and look away. It was rather popular, the 'pretend to hate someone you really like' scenario, but with Noah Puckerman he seemed to disguise it so well that if you blinked, or just didn't have a sixth sense like Rachel did, you would miss it. It was somewhat obvious as to why he would want Quinn, she surmised, because Quinn was probably the one girl who would not give him any attention at all. A girl chose his best friend over him, and she realized that had probably never happened to Puck before.

He sighed and crossed his arms. "Fine, whatever, I'm in."

She beamed once more. "Excellent. Practice is every day after school and you have to audition with a- "

He sneered and bumped his shoulder with hers roughly. "Whatever."

She watched as he began to walk off, before turning his head back around.

"And we never had this conversation."

Rachel could only look to the ground, a bright smile adorning her face.

_Part Three._

The rest of Rachel's day seem to go by rather swimmingly.

Not even an insult concerning her parentage made by Santana could bother the ecstatic brunette.

Of course, Glee rehearsal was completely abysmal; not suprising at all. She didn't even want to imagine what the rest of New Directions would do without her. The Cheerios just didn't care and the other four were talented, but had no sense of direction or music taste whatsoever. But not even the daily failures of New Directions could dampen her suddenly optimistic spirits. Of course, her optimism certainly didn't go unnoticed by the majority. Kurt just looked at her like she was crazy, muttering something related to 'hideous argyle finally took over her brain and mated with her crazy' under his breath. Mercedes had sniggered and bumped fists with him. Tina and Artie had remained blissfully unaware, talking to each other by the piano and blushing. Brittany just stroked the back of Santana's hand and hummed to herself, as her two Cheerio counterparts had just stared at Rachel speculatively; one looking contemplative and the other just plain annoyed.

Rachel had remained blissfully unaware of those around her, even as the bell rang for the end of the period. Normally, she was the last out of the class; she lagged behind and talked to Mr. Schue about certain solos she would be more than happy to take on. Today, she was the first out of her seat and in the hallway, her pink backpack behind her as she walked happily along the hallway. She was currently in search of Puck, because although she had talked with him earlier, he walked off before she could give him advice for the auditioning process. And if he attempted to walk away again, then she could 'casually' bring up Quinn and the effort she put into her audition piece. She would like to the think of it as a manipulation in his best interests.

She searched for five minutes before giving up. She had searched both floors of McKinley, as well as peeked outside and glimpsed into the gym. She heard the two minute warning bell go off above head. She just sighed in defeat as she watched all the students wrap up their conversations and begin to head to class. She leaned against the wall that lead to the parallel hallway, and just watched briefly to see if she might possibly spot him. She didn't. So she tightened her hands on her pink backpack and was about to round the corner to her next class.

Then she heard a suprising conversation.

She easily recognized the voices. _Quinn _and_ Finn._

Finn sounded slightly confused, and slightly hurt. "What's with the silent treatment?"

Quinn just sounded angry. "I don't know, maybe my _boyfriend _could have jumped in to defend me when his football buddies were being assholes."

"Y-you heard me Quinn, I told them to stop," stammered Finn.

Rachel shrunk at Quinn's fierce reply. "Once! You told them once to stop! A very _heroic _effort on your part Finn."

"I-I'm sorry Quinn. Okay? I'm sorry. But ever since you joined Glee they've been really laying it on me." Finn's voice took a frustrated edge.

"They've been really laying it on _you_," snarled the blonde. "I am _so _sorry that _you _have to go through this."

Rachel couldn't help but remain frozen with her back against the wall. She honestly had no idea that the Cheerios were recieving any negativity after joining New Directions. They certainly never showed it, as they continuously kept their struts and smirks in place. Apparently their situation was a lot more complicated than anyone realized. She jumped when she heard a locker violently slam shut.

"I know this is hard on you," muttered Finn, his voice attempting to sound soothing, "but hopefully this will all be over soon."

Quinn just sighed in annoyance. "Yeah."

Rachel released a breath when she noticed their voices getting further away. She carefully peeked her head around the corner. Quinn and Finn were both walking back down the hallway, with Finn's arm around the blonde's shoulders; he was grinning, seemingly trying to lighten the mood, and Quinn just continuously shook her head. The blonde rolled her eyes a few times, but she seemed to lean further into him.

She felt something deep in the pit of her stomach, something akin to discomfort. She put it down to the same realization that things may be more complicated than she originally thought.

She watched as they paused at the very end of the hall. Finn leaned down and kissed Quinn's cheek, before grinning at her and adjusting his backpack. Rachel felt that same discomfort as before as Quinn seemed to lose her annoyed expression briefly, leaning forward and adjusting Finn's collar before shoving him lightly towards the direction of his classroom.

As Finn entered his classroom, Quinn began to turn the corner of the hallway before pausing. The blonde remained motionless with her hand on the wall, halfway around the corner. Rachel had not time to even duck her head back behind her wall when Quinn turned her gaze onto her. The blonde's eyes widened as she finally noticed her presence. Rachel could only swallow nervously as Quinn's eyes seemed to narrow on her, staring at her with that intensity that made the brunette want to duck and cover, or stammer and apologize, or just do _something. _She pushed aside her fear and met the Cheerio's gaze head on, attempting to look less fearful of the blonde's reaction to her spying, _again_, than she actually was. The considerably odd moment was over when Quinn lifted her chin and sneered, giving her one last look before rounding the corner.

_Part Four._

Rachel could never truly comprehend why others didn't consider her a team player.

Sure, she fought for every solo that came around, and she was completely honest with others; that shouldn't matter in this case.

Because she sure as hell considered herself a team player right now. She was actually suprised she was doing this on Kurt's behalf; though he didn't know about it. The two of them came to a truce yesterday at the end of school, after the two got furiously dumpster dumped by Karofsky and one of his hockey buddies. That was the first time Rachel had ever cried in front of someone other than her fathers.

_Flashback:_

_After hearing Quinn and Finn's argument, Rachel made her way to Algebra class in a total daze._

_She had always been decent in math, and had always payed attention, but all she could really do is stare down at her desk and tap her pencil._

_Thoughts of the Cheerios and their confusing predicament, as well as Puck's acceptance to join on behalf of Quinn, swirled in her brain like one of the difficult math equations that were now on the board. Because Rachel hated feeling confused more than anything; she liked knowing things. So all she did was sigh in relief as the bell for the final period rang; she leapt up out of her seat and quickly shoved her notebook in her roller backpack. She made her way to her locker and grabbed her things, before making her way outside to wait for one of her dads to pick her up. She waited patiently for fifteen minutes, and by then most of the cars in the school parking lot were gone. _

_She couldn't help but huff in annoyance, because her dads had always been quite prompt on picking her up on time._

_She was about to pull her cell phone out of her backpack, when she felt two strong and familiar arms hoist her up. She could only shriek as she was roughly juggled over the hockey player's shoulder._

_"Karofsky! Y-you put me down this instant!" Rachel couldn't contain her fear. "I don't know if you know this, but my fathers have very strong ties to the ACLU and- "_

_"Shut up, Berry," growled Karofsky. He tightened his hold on her, and now it was borderline painful._

_Rachel wheezed, "You just wait till Figgins and your coach hears about this, because when they do- "_

_"You won't do nothing," laughed Dave, his voice edging on maliciousness._

_She whimpered when he squeezed her hard, to the point where she could scarcely breathe properly. A feeling of familiarity came to her as she watched the entrance grow in distance. She had been in this position before, and she knew exactly where he was taking her this time. Her eyes widened when she heard the fastly approaching sniggers and guffaws, signifying more than one person was doing the dumping today. She closed her fists on the cloth covering his shoulder's, and began to feel her body twisting in defiance on its own accord. She heard the hockey player grunt in anger as he struggled to contain her._

_"Hey Davey-Boy!" An unfamiliar voice. "Who you got today?"_

_"A Glee freak," hissed Dave, struggling to contain the furious and hysterical brunette._

_"Alrighty than. Two for two huh, buddy?" The same unfamiliar voice, guffawing._

_If Rachel wasn't so concerned over her well-being, then she would certainly be correcting the boy's obvious incorrect use of the English language. All she could currently do is hiss and struggle in the stocky boy's arms; annoying him even further as he began to curse and dig his fist into her side painfully._

_"You gonna just sit there," spat Dave, "or help me with this little bitch?"_

_"Sorry bro." _

_Rachel screamed as another pair of hands grappled her, effectively stilling her body from its defiance. She could only breathe harshly in anger and fear; the two of them had each seperately grabbed her arms and her legs, now doing a back and forth swinging motion. She looked to the her right, where the dumpster was located. It was quite high up, and she didn't even know if they could launch her that high. She honestly wasn't afraid of getting thrown in the dumpster now, at this point it was inevitable, but now it was the overwhelming fear of hitting the side of the dumpster. They were now swinging her high up, and for the first time Rachel felt herself crying openly. _

_She clenched her teary eyes shut and screamed as they suddenly let go and launched her into the air. _

_She felt her back graze the edge of it as she miraculously landed on the inside of it with a painful thud. She winced when she felt the body she had landed on shift and hiss. _

_"I-I'm so sorry," stammered Rachel, tearfully, "I-I really didn't mean to land on you and- "_

_"It's fine," hissed a familiar voice._

_"K-Kurt?" She hated how small and fearful her voice sounded._

_A body shifted and a deep sigh resignated. "Hey Rachel." _

_Her heart broke as his tone of voice matched hers. "Are you okay?"_

_"Yeah, I'm fine," muttered the feminine boy. "You?"_

_"I'll be okay," murmured Rachel, "because in these types of situations I always tell myself that it could always be- "_

_"Rachel, please," groaned Kurt, stepping in on the beginnings of a typical rant._

_"Sorry," whispered Rachel._

_The top of the dumpster had been shut as soon as Rachel landed on Kurt, leaving the two in complete darkness. She could only hear and feel the boy's movements as he moved trash bags over to the side, pressing his body back against the back wall of the dumpster. She cringed when she felt a sticky like substance on her hand, immediately pulling it out of the trashbag it was in. She couldn't contain her sniffles as she clumsily moved her position parallel to Kurt's against the opposite wall. Another tear fell when her hand landed in another trashbag. She was so lost in her hurt and mounting fury that she couldn't even bring herself to contemplate the unsanitary atmosphere. She heard Kurt let out labored and shaky breaths._

_"We should just get out of here," sighed Rachel._

_"No," said Kurt, his voice shaky and fearful._

_"Wha-why not?" muttered Rachel incredulously. "I certainly don't plan to spend the rest of my evening in this ridiculous- "_

_The feminine boy quickly interjected. "Because they're still out there."_

_"No, they're not," huffed Rachel, "because we would have heard them making those obscene noises they call laughter. It sounds more like a monk- "_

_"They are," spat Kurt. "The last time I crawled out of here they were waiting by the front doors; they hosed me down."_

_Rachel's mouth snapped shut. She let her head rest against the metal behind her, and wiped her eyes with her hands. _

_"Why did they dump you today?" Rachel didn't want to disturb the quiet and slightly morose atmosphere, so she kept her voice quiet._

_"Those assholes don't dump someone for a reason," replied Kurt, staunchly. "They do it because they can."_

_Rachel knew that was true first hand. She recalled several times that they just grabbed a random freshman walking down the hallway and just humiliated them for the sake of amusement. It made her wonder how the teachers never really seemed to do anything about it either. Sure, if they saw you slushie a person in front of them they would give you detention, but other than that they didn't do a single thing. You could even have half of the school as a witness and Principal Figgins would say that you needed sufficient proof. She honestly didn't know how this could keep continuing year after year. No wonder a small group of the teenage population had killed themselves in Lima in the last decade. And Lima was a considerably small town._

_She supposed that it was a demonstration of power around here. It was quite repetitive. Most of the football jocks who terrorized in high school went on to be Lima losers. And the popular cheerleaders in high school just went on to be housewives. Every once in a while you would see a jock or a cheerleader get a scholarship to Ohio State or some other nearby college, but that was a rare occasion. It took a lot to get out of this pathetic and miserable town, but Rachel was determined not to be a Lima loser. Even if she had to take a crappy apartment in New York until she could be discovered for her impeccable talent, she would certainly take it to get out of this cow town._

_"They caught me just after school," continued Kurt. "Because I was heading toward the football field."_

_"Why were you going to the football field?" _

_Kurt was silent for several moments, and she was about to ask him again when he finally replied._

_"I was planning to try-out for the team," mumbled Kurt. Rachel's mouth fell open._

_"You wer- why were planning to try-out for the football team!" She was completely baffled._

_"Because I wanted to impress my dad," mumbled Kurt, his voice apprehensive. "I wanted to make him proud."_

_"I-I'm sure he is proud of you Kurt," reassured Rachel._

_Kurt laughed with bitterness. "He certainly doesn't seem proud when someone calls his phone and claims his son is a faggot."_

_End Flashback._

And that was why she was currently in search of Finn Hudson. She and Kurt had never really agreed on anything, but yesterday her heart broke for him. Her dads were gay, and they recieved a lot of discrimination for being so, so Rachel had a soft spot for Kurt and his situation. So she decided that she would approach Finn Hudson and see if he could get Kurt a football try-out. She thought about approaching Puck again, but she knew she would be walking a thin line on that request. It took everything she could use to just get him to join Glee, so forget asking him if he could get Kurt Hummel a try-out. And while Rachel had lost all respect at all for Finn, she knew he would be the more reasonable person to approach in this situation. And luckily Quinn hadn't been by his side for most of the day. Undoubtedly there had been a lover's spat that had occured, which Rachel felt oddly satisfied by.

She decided to wait by his locker, and hoped that Quinn didn't miraculously decide to show up and show her disdain for Rachel. The warning bell went off, so she began to fidget anxiously. Because they were at their final class of the day, and she was not dumb enough to proceed to the football field and have a little replay of yesterday after school. Her anxiety went away when she noticed his noticible form move quickly down the hallway in a haste to get to his locker. Luckily, the halls were mostly cleared by now. He approached the locker and seemed to freeze when he noticed Rachel there. His eyes widened and his eyes quickly scourged the halls for the threat of Quinn. After a couple of seconds to realize there was no threat, he apprehensively approached.

"Um-hi," said Finn. "What-what are you doing by my locker?"

"I needed to ask a favor of you, Finn," replied the brunette, her voice hopeful.

His eyes widened. "You already know that I can't join Glee."

"I know," reassured Rachel. "That's not what this is about."

He seemed to sag in relief, before looking nervous again. "What kind of favor?"

_Part Five._

It had taken a lot for Finn to agree.

Rachel needled him for a good five minutes before he gave in, causing them both to be late to class.

He was obviously reluctant, but he said he would talk to Coach Tanaka and his teammates about it. So she would wait for his confirmation before telling Kurt, because she didn't want to give him hope and then let him down. She had given a very nervous Finn her phone number and had told him to call her and let her know. He had folded the torn paper and had put it in his pocket, half-waving at her in goodbye as he took off to his last class. Which is why for the second day in a row she couldn't focus in Algebra. So she rushed out the door again in her haste to leave the school. Luckily she had ballet class after school, and she just wanted to go to her dance class and just think about things. Ballet had always helped her unwind and think. She was almost out the door when a voice stopped her.

"Rupaul," barked Quinn, "we need to have a little chat."

Rachel's eyes widened when she heard the blonde's voice. She slowly turned around to face her.

"Very well," spoke Rachel, cautiously. "To what do I owe this honor, Quinn?"

She gasped when a hand roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her inside an empty classroom. The blonde turned and closed the door behind her. Her entire posture screamed anger, so the brunette concluded she had found out about her and Finn's discussion in the hallway earlier. Rachel leant against the wall next to the doorframe, just praying that Quinn would just show a little mercy. She jumped when Quinn's arms came over her head and slammed harshly into the wall behind Rachel; the blonde leant in close, and there was _that _damn intensity in her eyes again. The brunette blamed her almost buckling knees on the fear she felt.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Quinn's voice was low, and oddly husky, but there was pure frustration in it.

Rachel mocked, "I don't know what you're talking about Quinn."

If she was going to die, then she certainly wouldn't give Quinn Fabray the satifaction of seeing her fear.

The blonde's eyes widened, and then her face morphed into something that was almost animalistic. Her lips were pulled back in an almost snarl, and her brows were creased angrily. And those darkened hazel eyes bore into her like a predator. The Cheerio released a deep breath and pulled a torn piece of paper out of the pocket of her letterman. Quinn smoothed out the creases of the paper; long, manicured fingers twirled it around. The brunette averted her eyes when she saw her name and number in a pink marker, along with her signature gold star.

"It's not what you think, Quinn," sighed Rachel. "I just gave him my number because I had asked him for a favor concerning- "

Quinn roughly shoved the small piece of paper at Rachel's chest, before leaning forward and almost pressing against Rachel.

"When are you going to learn your lesson, Berry?" Quinn murmured in the same low tone. The blonde looked incredibly frustrated.

"R-really, I promise it's not what you think," spoke the brunette.

"Isn't it?" Rachel froze when she could actually feel the breath of the blonde against her face.

"I-I don't want your boyfriend Quinn," reassured Rachel. "I really just needed help from him concerning football."

Quinn seemed to momentarily forget about her anger, raising her eyebrow in incredulousness. She gazed at Rachel like that for a few moments, almost as if she was attempting to determine if the brunette was lying or not. She then seemed to release a breath of almost laughter, her lips quirking up as she looked towards the ground. Her pony tail swished from side to side as she shook her head. The brunette didn't know why, but that feeling she had in the locker room, when she first discovered Quinn in her misery and weakened state, came back right then and hit her again. Her eyes zeroed in on the blonde-haired Cheerio as the girl kept looking at the ground, torn between a moment of amusement and bafflement. Rachel felt her own lips quirking up as she watched this enigma of a girl have a considerably out-of-character moment.

She felt her stomach lose that odd feeling as Quinn looked back at up at her, losing her temporarily human expression, before transforming back into that signature look of anger.

"I don't care how or why you needed Finn's help, Stubbles. It will _not _happen again. Are we clear?"

Rachel nodded. The blonde looked temporarily satisfied.

"Say it," spoke Quinn, looking daring and expectant.

"I promise it won't happen again," grumbled Rachel, rolling her eyes.

"Good," clipped the blonde. "See that it doesn't. Or our next meeting will be a lot more...unpleasant than this one was."

"Really Quinn," snorted Rachel, "I wouldn't exactly call any of our meetings completely pleasant."

The blonde looked aghast for the barest moment, before looking at Rachel frustratedly. She had now pushed herself close to Rachel once more, her expression radiating pure annoyance. She could see the blonde visibly gritting her teeth at her gall and bravery, and she felt an inane amount of satisfaction. And for some reason, her mind screamed for her to annoy the blonde more, to push her, but Rachel had no idea what that was about. So instead she just kept looking at Quinn, not backing down, but not speaking up again either. The blonde licked her lips quickly as she tilted her head up towards the ceiling, putting her hands on her hips. But the girl sighed as she tilted her head back down, stepping even closer to Rachel and one hand grabbing the collar of her white shirt.

"You know," growled Quinn, "if you weren't so annoying and pathetic, I would actually respect you."

The brunette felt her breath hitch at the blonde's insulting, but still oddly flattering submission. The blonde tugged her collar and pulled her back in closer.

"Remember what happens if you come near Finn again," whispered Quinn in her ear, her voice low and threatening.

The brunette's eyes felt oddly hazy when the blonde's breath washed over the shell of her ear. All she could do was watch when Quinn let go of her collar and roughly shove her back against the wall, causing Rachel to whimper in pain. She quickly ran her hand over the back of her head, where it had impacted with the wall. She just panted and leaned against the wall, still holding her head, as she watched Quinn just walk to the door nonchalantly.

The blonde turned back around.

"I'm glad that we could have this conversation, Berry."

And with that, her blonde pony tail whipped back around as she exited the classroom door with her signature strut.

Rachel just kept leaning against the wall, feeling oddly...electric.

_Part Six._

Rachel clapped politely, even though it was obvious by now that McKinley was going to lose this game.

The stadium had half-way cleared out, because they were apparently along Rachel's line of thinking.

It was the first game of the season, and of course McKinley had gotten off to a great start. Finn had probably gotten sacked more times than any quarter-back in the history of McKinley High. And that was in this single game. The only thing that really kept her here was Kurt. She was suprised that her little plan had worked out. Two days ago, Finn had rushed up to her and quickly told her that Kurt had a try-out for kicker directly after school. He had said it incredibly fast, and he had continuously fidgeted and looked around like a paranoid loony. If Rachel hadn't of been so excited, then she probably would have guiltily laughed at Finn's behavior. It was obvious that he was still in the 'dog house' with Quinn.

After Finn confirmed the try-outs, which he reclaimed a small tidbit of respect in Rachel's book, she had immediately told Kurt. At first, he had been skeptical and a little angry that she had done that without him knowing. But after the first initial response, he had been grateful. He hadn't even snapped at her in Glee, only nodded his head at her in acknowledgement, which she happily returned. Even when she challenged Mercedes for the solo and stormed out after losing, he just nodded at her in the hallway, which seemed to baffle Mercedes. And at the very end of the day he had come up and patted her shoulder, after he told her he was nervous about the tryouts and she gave him nothing but encouragement. He had been reasonably nervous, so he couldn't even muster up a glare when she told him that football was like his singing; it just needed to improve.

He had come in school the next day and actually smiled at her, telling her he had gotten it. He had even looped his elbow through hers as they walked toward the choir room, picking up Mercedes at her locker. She had looked confused when, after looping her arms through Kurt's, she noticed Rachel on his other one. But Rachel and Mercedes and had put away their rivalry momentarily and laughed when Kurt began to strut arrogantly among the halls of McKinley High; signature haughty look in place.

"_And McKinley High scores a touchdown!" _

Rachel's head snapped up at the announcement, following the suprised yet ecstatic cheers of the remaining fans in the stadium.

She grinned, because now Kurt would get his chance to shine.

She watched as he nervously took the field, his shaking visible from even where she was sitting. She watched as the players lined up for the play, and watched as Kurt backed up and waited for the ball to be hiked, one leg further in front than the other and his arms hanging at his sides. The next minute was a blur.

The ball soared back, where the quarter-back caught it and quickly positioned it on the ground, the laces of the football facing the goal.

Kurt rushed forward, and with greater leg strength than Rachel thought he possessed, kicked the ball towards the two metal bars.

She watched with a bated breath, along with the rest of the audience.

The ball was perfectly kicked, and soared with astonishing speed towards the two bars, and she felt her heart alight with hope.

But then she felt her heart drop and breathing altogether stop; the ball soared no more than two inches on the outside of the left bar.

She put her shaky hands over her mouth when the crowd began to go crazy, people shouting and screaming obscenities; the football players just shook their heads and stormed off the field.

He had missed.

_Part Seven._

The next day was astonishingly horrible.

The game was all anyone could really talk about; it spread along like wildfire.

Kurt had come to school, and unsuprisingly to Rachel, he looked like a complete mess. His hair was unkept and there were dark circles under his eyes. He didn't even have on his usual designer wear. She had approached him by his locker and talked to him, but he was completely detached to everyone around him. She had tried to approach him several more times, but he had stopped going to his locker. She finally waited until right before Glee started, when she knew she could catch him, which she had. She had tried every form of encouraging pep talk she knew, but to no avail. Kurt had finally snapped at her, and began to walk away from his locker. She had followed hastily, because she refused to give up, and she caught him just as he rounded the corner.

Unfortunately, they had rounded the corner into a line of at least a dozen slushies.

Which was why they were currently in the girl's restroom, cleaning up after their little encounter with half of the football team.

When they had first gone in, there were two girls in there, reapplying their makeup. They had both whirled around to see Kurt and Rachel literally dripping with every color of slushie. They looked torn between laughing and cringing with horror. They just stood there until Kurt had snapped at them to get the hell out. They had both huffily grabbed their makeup and stormed to the door; one of them had turned around.

"This is the girl's bathroom," she had said haughtily. "You're not supposed to be in here."

Kurt, to the astonishment of Rachel, had grabbed the girl and shoved her out the door entirely.

"I'm more woman than you are," sneered Kurt. He had been shaking with anger. "And tell your hairdresser that perms are so last decade!"

And with that, he had slammed the door in the offended girl's face.

And since then, complete silence had loomed in the girl's restroom as they cleaned up. Rachel did her normal ritual with her towel on the edge of the sink, but this time she had to go into the stall and change into a new outfit afterwards. Kurt did the exact same thing as Rachel. It had taken a good twenty minutes for the two to clean up. They both left the bathroom and headed toward the choir room; the silence still remained. She paused at the door and took a deep breath, looking to Kurt to see if he was ready to go in. When he nodded his head in affirmative, albit rather weakly, she opened the door. Complete silence had washed over the choir room as they both entered; their change of clothes and depressed expressions no doubt alerting the others as to what happened.

They just quietly went to their seats, not saying a word. Kurt went to sit by Mercedes at the top, and Rachel was about to go to the front, but Kurt suprisingly grabbed her hand and tugged her up with him. Mercedes looked sympathetically at Kurt, bumping his shoulder with her fist, and shooting a nod at Rachel. When Mercedes turned back to look at the front, Rachel leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"I know things are incredibly hard for us right now," whispered the brunette.

Kurt just nodded his head, but said nothing.

"I know we're not at the top of the world," continued Rachel, her voice still a whisper. "But one day we will be. One day we'll be out of this damn town and we'll be winners."

He breathed a soft laugh through his nose and nodded.

"I can't wait," murmured the boy.

She smiled and turned her head back towards the front. Mr. Schue had just walked in the classroom, his expression held absolute excitement. He went over to the piano, laying down his satchel and pulling out several notes of sheet music. He dug through all of his papers before finding the one he was apparently looking for. He grabbed it and walked to the middle of the classroom, facing all of them. He was about to start talking, but then the door opened and a trio of three entered. Rachel's eyes widened and she bit her lip in excitement.

"Everyone," began Mr. Schue, his voice proud and excited, "please welcome Puck, Matt, and Mike. They are the newest members of New Directions."

Several things happened. The Cheerios gaped for several minutes, before jumping out of their seats and running towards the trio of football jocks. Santana leapt on Puck in a fierce hug, and she followed up with Matt. Brittany excitedly grabbed Mike Chang's hands and began talking at rapid pace. Quinn just lagged behind the group, with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. Puck tried to lean forward to hug her, but she just scoffed and punched him in the arm. He faked a hurt look, but Rachel could see his eyes lose their brightness briefly, before firing back up again as he smirked at her.

"Miss me Fabray?" His tone was quite cocky.

Quinn just rolled her eyes and waved him off with her hand. They all just kept chatting at the front of the room, almost forgetting that it was Glee Club they were in. It was almost nice to see. The weren't adorning their usual harsh or arrogant looks, they weren't throwing slushies in people's faces or making fun of anyone, they were like a normal group of friends. It was quite an odd thing to see, because Rachel had never seen them all so friendly to anyone before. They all were closer and more personal than she truly realized. When Mr. Schue told them to make their way to their seats, the boys obviously sitting by the Cheerios, Mr. Schue began to speak. But Rachel didn't hear a word he said, because Quinn had subtly turned her head in her seat and looked back at Rachel.

Rachel felt that odd electricity again as she looked at Quinn. It wasn't strong, barely there even, but it was there. She didn't even know what it truly was. Maybe a part of her was beginning to like the negative interactions between her and Quinn, because she felt like she grew less fearful each time they occured. Maybe a part of her hoped Quinn might accept a friendship in the far off future. She just didn't know. She still disliked the girl, a part of her probably always will, even if they become friends, but a part of her was left in a part of wonderous confusion that made her want to examine that odd something that was obviously there. When Quinn's hazel eyes bore into her for the briefest moments, before turning her attention to the front, Rachel had felt her face heat up. It was just like what she had thought earlier; wonderous confusion.

Rachel's head snapped back up when Mr. Schue said his next line:

"So...who knows West Side Story?"

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**You likey? And open to suggestions on Rachel's father's names. **


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